


Elastic

by Kimmimaru



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abusive Parent, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dark Past, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Physical Abuse, Victor's mother is cold, mentions of childhood neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9620480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmimaru/pseuds/Kimmimaru
Summary: “You intend to marry a man who has no idea of what you did?” Her smile turned nasty, curling over her lips like a blade. She picked up her wine glass in one shaking hand and took an unsteady sip, coughing lightly into her fist as she replaced the glass back onto it's coaster. Victor watched condensation fall steadily down the stem and pool on the base. “He needs to know, Victor. If you're going to marry him, he should be aware of just what he is getting into.” With that she rose gracefully and ran her long fingers through her son's hair, pushing it away from his eyes. He didn't look up, even as those nails dug a little too much into his scalp. She bid them both goodnight before leaving them alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A prologue to another Yuri!!! On Ice fic. I'm sorry...I'm a terrible person but I'm obsessed at the moment and can't get these ideas out of my head. Updates will be sporadic as i'm a single parent so the only time I get to write is generally at night, I apologise in advance but I can't make it go any faster. Please enjoy this messed up little story while I wallow in guilt about trying to finish my other stories...

Yuri shifted one of the heavy plastic bags from one hand to the other while Victor dug around in the back pocket of his obscenely tight jeans to find his keys. He found them and gave his fiancé a triumphant grin before turning his attention to the lock and opening it with a click. “I will just take a shower and then I can help you with dinner.” Victor spoke smoothly, slipping off his shoes as he stepped into their apartment. “What will it be? Chicken-” He froze, blocking Yuri from following him inside.

“Victor, wha-”

“мама?'

Curiously Yuri peered around Victor to look into the apartment, he couldn't see much but there was obviously someone else in their living room as there were a pair of black patent high heels by the door. 

“Vitya,” The voice was certainly female, it was low and a little husky as if the person speaking was a heavy smoker. And now that Yuri was thinking about it, the apartment did smell of a fresh cigarette, it reminded him of his sister. “ _It's been a long time._ ” Yuri's Russian wasn't all that good, he could only make out a few words as Victor answered, he could assume that the woman beyond was Victor's mother and he was more than curious. 

“ _Mama, what are you doing here_? _You should have called to say you were coming._ ”

“ _Since when have I had to call before visiting my dearest son_?”

Somehow there was tension in the room, Victor's voice was tight and he was holding himself somewhat stiffly. Finally he took two more steps into the room and Yuri managed to move in and close the door, he slipped off his running shoes and stacked them neatly beside Victor's before removing his coat. He shuffled around Victor and finally saw the woman. She was incredibly tall, at least six feet. She was slender and had long silver hair that fell down her back in soft artificial curls. There was something almost regal about the way she held herself, like royalty. She wore a thick black sweater and a pair of classy black trousers, her long nails were painted vibrant red and matched her lips perfectly. She had thick lashes and had a ring on her right hand, a huge diamond sparkled in the light from a nearby lamp. Victor took a breath and strode over to his mother as she lit another cigarette, Yuri could clearly see his nose wrinkle in distaste. The woman was obviously beautiful, even down to the crows feet around her startlingly blue eyes and around her firm mouth. She brought the lit cigarette to her stained lips and took a deep drag just as her son returned from the kitchen to place a glass ashtray on the table before her. “ _Mama, this is Yuri Katsuki my...”_ Victor's voice trailed off uncertainly as he raised a hand and beckoned Yuri to his side. Yuri went nervously, he bowed formally at the waist and curled his hands into fists at his sides. 

“It's good to finally meet you Nikiforov-san.” He said, using the Japanese suffix out of ingrained propriety. He came out of his bow to meet the woman's steely eyes, her lips pursed and she held out one elegant hand. Yuri glanced nervously at Victor who couldn't offer any help before taking her hand in his own, she shook his hand briefly and dropped it just as quickly but before running one finger over the golden ring adorning his finger.

“I know what you are, child.” She said abruptly in English, fixing Yuri with a cool stare. Her voice was heavily accented, it took Yuri a moment to decipher her words. 

“Mother.” Victor muttered in warning, his own eyes moving away from her to fix on some point in the distance, “Please, try not to be rude.”

“Rude?” She laughed softly, the sound sending the hairs on Yuri's neck prickling. “ _My apologies, Vitya, I did not intend to see you living with this...person._ ”

Victor flinched a little, they had started speaking Russian again and Yuri was having a hard time following. “ _What? Did you think this was a joke_ ?” He asked, anger putting an edge to his voice that Yuri rarely heard. 

“ _With you it is almost impossible to tell._ ” His mother replied, equally as sharply. She finished her cigarette and crushed it in the middle of the ashtray. “Where is my room? I will be staying for a few days. Please, Mr. Katsuki, bring my luggage through.” She rose from the sofa and swept towards the bedrooms. Yuri finally felt like he could breathe again, Victor moved to his side and put one arm around his shoulders.

“I'm sorry, my mother is...a little difficult at times. Please bare with her, she'll be gone soon enough.” He whispered into Yuri's ear.

“I'm sure she's a very nice woman, she must have been to raise you.” Yuri smiled and turned in Victor's arms. When he looked up into his fiancé's face he saw a dark look in his eyes before it was rapidly replaced by a soft, heart-shaped smile. 

“Oh Yuri, you're so cute.” He said and pressed a kiss to the top of Yuri's hair before he pulled away. “Don't worry about mother's suitcases, I'll take them in.” He went to where two small cases stood by the wall and pulled out the retractable handles. “Go start dinner, _Лучик_.”

Yuri sighed as Victor dragged his mother's cases to the spare room, he turned to the kitchen and started to unpack the shopping bags.

“A man, Vitya? Really?”

Victor sighed heavily as he pushed the bedroom door open to find his mother already sat on the bed, she was rubbing her feet as if they pained her but halted when the door had opened. “Mama, please. Yuri's a wonderful person, if you'd just-”

“You know how I feel about this, Vitya. I tolerated your dalliances when you were little but you're a man now and you have responsibilities.”

Victor leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, he knew this was coming and should have expected her to turn up out of the blue after almost an entire year of being ignored. “What made you think I would ever end up with a girlfriend, mother? I've never been interested, you know that better than anyone.”

“Your father is dead, Vitya. Your brother is twenty years in his grave. You are the last male to carry this family's name, do you really wish to see it end with you?”

Victor rubbed tiredly at his eyes, “Mother, can we talk about this later? Please? I'm tired. I've been training all day and I just...I can't. Not tonight.”

Mariya Nikiforov looked up at her son before shaking her head slowly, she rose and moved to the wardrobe. “If that is what you wish, for now I will leave it. However, I will expect us to discuss it at a later date.”

“Yes mother.” Victor lowered his head and turned away but before he could leave his mother called him back.

“I did miss you, Vitya.”

Victor looked back over his shoulder and could only offer her a strained smile before walking away.

Dinner that night was uncomfortable, Yuri kept his head down and ate methodically despite the uneasy way his stomach churned. The conversation was stilted and forced, they discussed everything from the mundane things Victor did day-to-day to the weather. When the topics of conversation had run out a horrible, awkward silence descended over the table. Yuri rose rather abruptly and began clearing the table, giving Victor a chance to speak with his mother in relative privacy. He made a little too much noise as he washed the dishes but his nerves were near breaking point and his hands shook a little too much as he rubbed a sponge over a plate.

“So, I hear that little Yura has blossomed as a skater? I admit I missed the finals of last years Grand Prix so I only found out that he won gold from the paper.”

Victor handed over the ashtray and folded his hands in his lap, “Yes, he's improved remarkably. He broke my world record.”

“So I hear. And when will you reclaim that, Vitya? I assumed you had retired but the next thing I know you're on the news announcing your come back.”

Victor sighed, “Perhaps I will reclaim it, perhaps not. Nothing is set in stone, Mama.” He reminded her with as much gentleness as possible, given that he felt awkward discussing the subject of his career.

“You should have retired.” She replied sharply, eyes narrowing. “You are too old to be playing around with such silly, childish games Vitya. You're twenty-nine this year, is it too much to ask for you to settle down properly? All this travelling is not good for a man of your age.”

“I am perfectly happy with my choices, mother.” Victor said with an air of finality that he hoped would end this age-old conversation. “I am not my father, nor am I anything like Andrei...” His voice turned bitter and he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes moved to the kitchen to watch Yuri for a moment before coming back to rest on his mothers face. Her lips tightened into a thin line and her hands curled around one another at the mention of his dead brother.

“You haven't seen your nephew for three years.” She said suddenly, a vicious bite in her voice that made Victor lower his head in shame. “You have not spoken to me in a year and your sister-in-law has not heard a peep from you in longer. Since when has family meant so little to you that you effectively cut us out of your life, Vitya? You grew distant after your brother's death, it was to be expected, but to completely cut ties with us is simply cruel. You must understand why I came here today-”

“Mother, I am sorry. I should have at least phoned you but I've been very busy. When I left to train Yuri it was an impulse decision I had no time to tell anyone where I was going except Yakov. I know I should have said something but...I didn't think. I didn't think you would be so upset.”

“It's not just me, Victor. You have hurt a great many people with your actions.” She looked up over at Yuri who was now drying up the dishes. “Does he know?” She asked, her piercing eyes moving to her son's face, she watched it twist before he let out a soft breath.

“No.” he replied, rubbing both hands over his face. “And if I have my way he never will.”

“You intend to marry a man who has no idea of what you did?” Her smile turned nasty, curling over her lips like a blade. She picked up her wine glass in one shaking hand and took an unsteady sip, coughing lightly into her fist as she replaced the glass back onto it's coaster. Victor watched condensation fall steadily down the stem and pool on the base. “He needs to know, Victor. If you're going to marry him, he should be aware of just what he is getting into.” With that she rose gracefully and ran her long fingers through her son's hair, pushing it away from his eyes. He didn't look up, even as those nails dug a little too much into his scalp. She bid them both goodnight before leaving them alone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is technically the first chapter of this story. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations, thank you all so much for showing an interest in this story! I'm beyond happy. Enjoy my friends. (Once again, Italics are them speaking Russian but I only use them if the POV is Yuri's or he's in the room with them as he doesn't understand what they're saying)

Victor woke early that morning to the harsh blare of his alarm, he groaned and rolled over, snatching up his phone and turning it off before turning back to Yuri who still slept soundly by his side. He felt a helpless smile stretch his lips and leaned forward, pressing a series of delicate kisses over the bridge of Yuri's nose. He felt it wrinkle and chuckled when Yuri groaned in much the same way he had, he moved his kisses down Yuri's face to his jaw. “Good morning sunshine.” He muttered into Yuri's ear.

“Hmm...morning, Victor.” Yuri opened one eye and smiled at his fiancé, their hands found each other beneath the duvet and their fingers entwined. “I still can't get used to this.” Yuri muttered after a jaw-breaking yawn, he rolled onto his back and smiled up at the blurry ceiling.

“Get used to what, piggy?” Victor asked, his voice dripping with affection.

“Waking up beside you every morning...hearing your voice, feeling your body against mine...it's still so...surreal. What did I do to deserve you?” Yuri's eyes met Victor's and they smiled at each other.

“Shush, it's me that doesn't deserve you. You're too perfect for this world, Yuri Katsuki.”

Yuri snorted in mild disbelief before he curled up in Victor's arms and sighed happily, pressing a kiss to the centre of Victor's chin. “So, what's the plan for today?”

“Yakov wants me down at the rink in two hours, it would do you some good to get some extra practice in too while Yakov's screaming at me.”

“Sounds good but...uh...what about your mother?”

Immediately the relaxed atmosphere shattered, Victor tensed and sighed before pulling away from Yuri both physically and mentally. He slid out of bed and ran both hands through his hair. “She will want to come watch me skate, after that...I don't know. It's up to her.”

Yuri frowned a little in concern, watching Victor's back muscles tense. “Victor?”

“I'm ok. I just need a shower.” He got up, revealing his nudity and walked towards their en-suite bathroom. Yuri watched him go feeling oddly bereft, as if Victor had taken all the heat in the room with him.

They arrived at the rink in time to find Yakov yelling at Mila and Yurio. “I told you two not to stay up too late! Mila, you're a bad influence on Yuri! What were you thinking, taking him out when he is still very much underage?!”

“Ah, it's good to see everyone's in such a good mood today!” Victor announced their arrival in a cheery voice and a huge smile but Yuri could feel the tension radiating from him in waves. Yakov turned on them, opening his mouth to tell Victor to shut up and get on the ice but he stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on the imposing woman behind them. “Ah yes, Yakov I brought a visitor!” Victor indicated his mother and Yakov's mouth tensed into a dour line as he straightened out his coat and held out his hand.

“Mariya, _it has been a long time._ ” He said gruffly as he took Mariya's hand and kissed the back, his entire posture was one of stiff reverence but with an undercurrent of something else...Yuri wondered if Yakov genuinely disliked Victor's mother.

“ _A very long time, Mr. Feltsman_.” Mariya replied coldly, her eyes moving to Mila and Yurio. “ _Ah, Mr. Plisetsky, congratulations on your senior debut._ ”

“ _Thanks_.” Yurio mumbled, flushing a little as he turned away, “I'll meet you in the rink.” He said to Yuri before he dashed off, obviously equally as uncomfortable in Mariya's presence as everyone else seemed to be.

“ _And who is this beautiful young woman_?” Mariya looked at Mila who smiled and took her hand in greeting.

“ _I'm Mila Babicheva_ , _Victor and Yurio's rink mate_.”

“ _A figure skater, how wonderful my dear._ ”

Yuri watched in bemusement as everyone conversed rapidly in Russian, he turned to look at Victor who was eyeing his mother with apprehension. Yuri took his hand and their fingers entwined, they shared a small smile and waited patiently for everyone to finish talking around them. Mariya turned and gave Victor a darkly significant look, Yuri felt his entire body tense and he released his hand. Yuri frowned in confusion as Victor turned around and walked towards the changing rooms, Yuri's eyes followed him before he turned to glance back at Mariya who was watching him coolly as if waiting for his reaction. Yuri simply blinked and followed Victor, confused about what had just transpired. He found his fiancé sitting on a bench with his head in his hands, staring at his feet. Yuri sat beside him and looked at the floor in silence, waiting for Victor to talk first.

“She...is very old fashioned.” Victor said, not looking up even when Yuri put a hand on his shoulder. “It's ok, she will be gone soon.” He finally lifted his head, took a breath and put on an obviously fake smile.

“Victor...?”

“It's ok, Yuri. Just some...old family issues. Let's go, we need to practice.” He picked up his bag and removed his skates, Yuri followed his example wordlessly. He was concerned, Victor was acting weird and it had something to do with the horrible tension around his mother. He wanted to ask but he decided it would be better to wait until Victor himself confessed.

About half an hour into practice and Yuri was busy working on his step sequence for his Free Skate Programme, he was so absorbed in what he was doing he almost missed the sudden crack that echoed through the virtually empty rink. He came to a sudden halt, his head snapping up to see Victor lying on his back and staring up at the roof with a look of utter shock on his face. Yuri took off across the ice, barely hearing Yakov's shouts and the surprised mutters of Mila and Yurio. He slid to an abrupt stop and dropped to his knees beside his fiancé, bending to look into his eyes. “Victor?! Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?”

Victor blinked at him, he lifted a hand to his eyes and shook his head as he struggled into a sitting position. “I'm not hurt Yuri...” He replied but he didn't seem entirely certain himself. He frowned at his hands as if he didn't recognise them, “I haven't flubbed a toe loop in...a-a long time...I don't understand...”

“It's ok. Just get up and we'll take a short break.” Yuri smiled and offered his hand but Victor didn't take it, his eyes moving briefly to where his mother stood behind Yakov watching sternly. He dropped his gaze and forced himself to his feet, Yuri had to step back as he did so.

“I'll be fine, Yuri. Go practice, I obviously need to work on my jumps.” He said, his voice holding a tinge of shock still and even Yuri could hear the minute shake in it. Reluctantly he nodded his ascent and skated off back to his place so he could re-start his routine, he couldn't help but look back and see Yakov talking to Victor in a hushed whisper as he took a drink from his bottle. Victor shook his head, smoothing back his hair as he replied to something his coach had said. Yuri felt concern gnaw at his gut and his eyes drifted once again to Mariya Nikiforov, their eyes met across the rink and Yuri felt a chill go down his spine. Something was very wrong with the woman, he couldn't put his finger on it but she gave him the creeps. He shook himself mentally, pushing back his hair and taking a breath; “Concentrate Yuri.” He muttered to himself before frowning and moving into his starting position.

After practice Yuri managed to corner Yurio after everyone else had left the ice, he caught hold of the blonds arm and tugged him gently back before he could exit the rink. Victor went back to the changing rooms at his mother's side, his head low as she spoke to him in hissing whispers. “Yurio? Do have a moment to talk?”

Yurio look at him for a long moment, his hair falling to obscure one eye. It had grown quite long in the year or so since the Grand Prix final and it was obvious he was growing at an alarming rate. His shoulders were already filling out. “Yeah, sure. I guess you've got questions about the hag?” He tossed his head, leaning back against the barrier and folding his arms across his chest.

“If you mean Victor's mother? Yeah.”

“What do you want to know?”

Yuri found it odd that Yurio didn't even ask him why he wasn't speaking to Victor, there was something going on here and he had to get at least a little bit of information so he could understand the situation more. “I'm...not sure...I guess, why does everyone seem to dislike her?”

Yurio smirked nastily and snorted, “Really? Isn't it obvious? The woman's scary.”

“Well, yeah...she is...cold.”

“Understatement, porkcutlet.” Yurio pushed hair from his eyes and let out a harsh breath, “I first met her when I moved my home rink from Moscow to St. Petersburg, Yakov brought me here to meet my fellow skaters and when we got here Victor was with his mother. She was visiting for a week. It's the only time, apart from today, that I've seen Victor flub even basic jumps and then when he finished practice she berated him loudly in front of everyone. She told him how pathetic it was that he was following a career he was so obviously shit at. She told him what a disgrace he was to their family name.” A sneer crossed Yurio's face and he looked away a moment. “When she saw me she thought I was a girl.” He shifted his stance and looked highly uncomfortable, “Kept telling Victor to marry a 'pretty girl like this one!' while gripping my shoulder in one of her claws. Fucking bitch tore one of my best tops. She reeked of wine and every time Victor tried to tell her I was a boy _and_ a kid she would shout him down. Eventually they left, after Yakov had told her to leave the rink or be escorted out by security. She made Victor go with her.”

“Wow...” Yuri shook his head slowly, “She's...not very pleasant.”

“You wait, piggy, she'll get her claws into you too. Watch your back.” With that warning Yurio stepped off the ice and bent to put on his skate guards. Yuri watched him go for a minute before sighing heavily and following. It was only for a few days, he could cope.

XXX

“Victor? Victor?!”

“Yes mama?” Victor sighed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back and prayed for patience. He heard his mother call his name again and he stepped away from the bowl full of salad. “Yes mother?!” He called again, leaving the kitchen and into the living room.

“Where's your wine?” Mariya demanded, she was crouched down and rummaging in cupboards. Victor's things were strewn across the room and he followed the trail of minor destruction with dead eyes.

“Are you sure that's a good idea? Wouldn't it be better-”

“Are you trying to tell me what to do?” She rose and stared furiously at him, hands on her hips in a gesture he knew all too well. He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat and had to force his legs not to move.

“No, not at all but dinner's nearly ready and I thought-”

“You thought wrong.”

“Fine. It's under the counter in the kitchen.” He said, voice low and monotonous.

“Good, bring me a glass of red would you? And you should tidy this mess up too. You never change, Vitya. Such an untidy boy.”

Victor blinked, lips parting to explain that it wasn't his fault before he snapped his mouth shut and forced another painful smile. “I'll be right back.” He said and turned away.

“Where is that little Japanese toy of yours? He hasn't come back all evening.”

“Yuri is out with some friends who came to visit.” Victor replied, going into the kitchen again and rummaging around in the cupboard, he stood as he withdrew a bottle of red. It wasn't his best but he had been saving the vintage Bordeaux for his anniversary with Yuri. He hesitated, chewing his bottom lip before taking the Bordeaux and moving it to another cupboard just in case. He brought his mother the inexpensive wine and poured her a glass, she snatched it from his fingers even before he had lifted it up. Her hands shook as she took a large gulp and sighed in satisfaction.

“When will he be returning?” She asked, waving at Victor to put the wine on the table.

“I'm not sure, late I suspect.” Victor replied indifferently.

There was a clink as Mariya re-filled her glass, “He's probably out there with another man.” She said abruptly and Victor felt cold at the back of his neck. He turned away, hands curling into fists.

“Not this again, Mama, please.”

“I was right about the last one, wasn't I? He was doing one of your skater friends behind your back.”

“That was...different. I had no intention of marrying him. Please, Mama, stop.”

“If you married a woman this wouldn't be a problem.”

“I won't marry a woman. I'm not attracted to women and never have been and even if I was women cheat just as much as men.”

“That Mila is a very beautiful girl.”

“She's also nineteen.” Victor ran a hand over his eyes and tried to hide his shaking hands by tightening his fists until his nails dug crescents into his palms. “She's too young, Mama and we're not interested in each other.”

“Your grandmother's diamond necklace would look stunning against one with her hair colour, Vitya.”

“Mother...dinner's going to burn.” He forced himself to move away from her poisonous words and busied himself with dinner. It was a little singed but somehow he managed to salvage it, he put it onto two plates and took it to the dining table. His mother waited for him to sit and at least get three mouthfuls before she spoke again.

“Your father would be disappointed in you, Victor.” She said and Victor felt his appetite leave him, he put his knife and fork down on the plate a little too hard. The clatter of metal against porcelain was too loud in the sudden silence.

“I barely knew him.” Victor managed to say through gritted teeth, “He died when I was four years old, Mother.”

“He did.” She sipped at her wine, her wedding ring sparkling as if mocking Victor's plain gold one. “He also left you an entire fortune that you seem intent on wasting on some foreign boy you barely even know.”

“I fell in love with Yuri the moment I first met him. I'm not a child, I know what love is...even if I've never felt it before.”

“He will not give me grandchildren. He will not be able to continue our family name...you know how old our family is, Victor. We used to be nobility, do you think your father would be pleased his only remaining son is playing house with another boy?”

Victor rose from his seat so abruptly he sent his knife toppling to the floor, he didn't bother to pick it up as he shoved back his seat and swept from the room. His mother's eyes burned into his back like knives and when he fell onto his bed he could almost see that cruel smirk on her lips.

Yuri returned far later than he had originally intended, he pried off his shoes in the darkness of the living room and then removed his coat. He hung it up and tip-toed into the kitchen, he grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water before taking a long drink. He sighed and smiled, Phichit had come to Russia to surprise him and they had gone out on a whim. It had been so good to be able to properly catch up with his best friend after so long. Although they talked all the time over social media and Skype nothing beat speaking face to face. If Victor's mother hadn't been staying he would have invited Phichit to stay but something told him to keep him away from the flat for the time being. He finished the water and turned to the living room only to almost jump out of his skin when he finally noticed Mariya sitting on the sofa, her long legs crossed and a glass clutched in her taloned hand. Yuri noted the bottle and remembered seeing it in the cupboard. Victor had told him it was a vintage wine he was saving specifically for a celebration. He wondered why Victor would have given it to her to drink. “Good evening Mr. Katsuki.” Mariya said, a fake smile curling her lips as she sipped the expensive wine. “Would you care to join me?”

Yuri's fingers tensed on the glass in his hand, he always felt underdressed when around this woman. Somehow even her mere presence made him feel horribly inadequate. “I would but I'm very tired, I should really-”

“That wasn't an offer.” Mariya indicated the seat opposite and Yuri swallowed around a lump in his throat. Anxiety clawed its way into his stomach, he moved reluctantly and sat in the seat she had indicated. They sat in silence for a while, Mariya simply staring at Yuri as if dissecting him. He sipped nervously at his water, if only just to give his hands something to do. “So, you are in love with my son.” She said quietly, her eyes lingering on his faded blue shirt and slightly worn jeans. “May I ask about your career? I heard somewhere that you were retiring but then when you won silver something made you change your mind.”

“Uh...I...I realised at the Grand Prix that-that I didn't want to leave skating...I wanted to keep skating with Victor at my side.”

“And how many times have you won gold? I admit that despite my research I have found nothing to suggest that there is anything out of the ordinary about you.”

Yuri laughed nervously and lowered his eyes to his glass, “No, ma'am, I'm quite ordinary. There's nothing particularly special about me.”

“So I see.” She arched a manicured eyebrow as she silently judged him, “My son has won gold six times now, the most recent in the Russian Nationals. I admit, I'm quite confused about what he sees in you. Victor comes from a family descended directly from nobility, do you know what that means? It means he is out of your league. I cannot imagine what his father would think if he saw you two together, a peasant intending to marry his only living son. It is, frankly, a disgrace.”

Yuri's chest grew cold, he stared at the woman across from him as she voiced all his fears out loud. He had had no idea that Victor was from such an important family and the idea was quite terrifying. Every word she spoke rang a bell inside him, it played perfectly on every single one of his insecurities. He couldn't speak, only stare at her as she continued.

“My son is impulsive, sometimes he does things simply because he knows it will hurt me. I believe that this is case with you. He knows how important it is to continue the family name with children, however, he is seemingly intent on destroying it all by marrying you.” She paused to watch the affect her words were having, Yuri's lips were parted in shock, his large brown eyes wide as he gaped at her mutely. “Tell me, boy, what do your family do?”

It took Yuri a few false starts before finally he forced his throat to work, “...T-they run an onsen in H-Hasetsu.” He stuttered helplessly, lowering his eyes. He felt shame wash over him, which was ridiculous. His family had held onto that onsen for an entire generation, it was one of the most successful businesses in the town and had always been a source of much pride for him and his family. But somehow this woman was making him feel ashamed of his family's quaint, solid business. They weren't rich but they got along just fine, his parents had been able to afford to send him abroad for his education as well as give him everything so he could pursue a career in figure skating. His mother was always so incredibly proud of him, no matter what he did. His father's smile was always broad when he returned home and when he had announced his engagement they had insisted he fly home with Victor so they could celebrate as soon as possible.

“Onsen? What is that?” She frowned a little, “Isn't that some sort of...hot spring?”

“Y-Yes. People come to relax a-and stay...I-It's an Inn...we're quite popular.”

“I see.” She sighed and shook her head slowly at him. “Victor could do so much better. I tried to arrange a marriage for him a few years ago but he turned the girl down simply to spite me, he can be quite petty when he wants to be. I only want you to realise that this...this 'engagement' between you two is likely only another way for Victor to hurt me. He does not love you, Mr. Katsuki. This entire situation is, quite frankly, a farce. I gave that child everything, he had access to the best education money can buy, he had an entire manor to grow up in, staff to wait on his every need...and how does he repay me? By ignoring me for a year and running off to another country to marry a foreign boy. He is quite vindictive, isn't he? He cares very little about my feelings you know, he appears to be dedicating his entire life to ruining mine. My boy is beautiful, physically he is an asset to me and at least I managed to teach him how to dress properly. He is a six-time gold medallist with a bright future, you, however, are an inconvenience. Dead weight. What have you done with your life? Won silver? Lost spectacularly in every other competition you were in? Dear boy, isn't it obvious that there is a huge gap between you and my son?” Her voice washed over Yuri in waves, his ears rang as he stared at his feet, unable to look up as his terror choked him. How did this woman know exactly what buttons to press? How was she able to so easily rock the foundations of his entire life? He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes.

“I...” He cleared his throat and frowned before slowly lifting his head, “I know that I'm not as good as Victor, and that we'll never be true equals in regards to our talent.” He swallowed, finally meeting Mariya's steely gaze. His eyes filled with determination and his shoulders straightened. “But,” He put heavy emphasis on the word and saw a startled look flash across the woman's face. “We are equals in every other aspect of our lives. I may lack Victor's confidence on the ice, I may lack his experience but I'm still young enough to make that up. I can and I will prove to you and everyone else out there that I'm worthy of being Victor Nikiforov's husband. I love him...” He took a breath and smiled, “I really do.” With that he rose and walked towards the bedroom doors, after a second he hesitated and looked back. Mariya was watching him with fury in her eyes, eyes so much like Victor's and yet utterly different. “I would replace that wine you're drinking Ms. Nikiforov, Victor was saving it for a special occasion.” He pushed open the door and entered the bedroom before she could respond, when he was finally safe within the darkness he pressed his back against the wall feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He took a few shaky breaths and stared at the wall above their bed. He had insulted Victor's mother...he had been completely terrified and was amazed that his voice hadn't given him away. He laughed quietly to himself and his eyes finally landed on Victor's sleeping form, he smiled and started to undress. Whatever the consequences were they could wait until tomorrow, he was tired and wanted nothing more than to curl up at Victor's side and sleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh...I'm on a roll here. Luckily my little squishy (my daughter) was at nursery today so i got more done than I intended. Just as an FYI the title is taken from the song 'Elastic Heart' by Sia which had quite a profound affect on me when I first heard it and I thought it suits Victor so well. If you haven't heard it listen, it's really good and has some quite positive aspects to it. I do hope I'm keeping them in character here, it's quite difficult as YOI is generally a really happy positive anime with only mild angst which is quickly resolved. I love it, I really do but as someone who suffers from depression and anxiety (yay) I find writing angsty stories sort of cathartic. Like I'm siphoning off my own issues onto a fictional character (or several). So anyway, this story may not be too nice to begin with but I will be aiming for it to get better...hopefully...
> 
> Oh yeah and if I forget to tag something please tell me. I'm exhausted like 90% of the time so my brain is completely useless, I have not done it deliberately. There is mild sort-of-smut (or near-smut?) at the end of this chapter btw.

Ordinarily Victor loved shopping, it was something he had always enjoyed but more so since he had met Yuri. He loved spoiling his fiancé, he liked to watch him blush and stammer whenever Victor insisted on buying something stupidly expensive for him. He simply loved spoiling him rotten. However, shopping with his mother was always a chore. They went from place to place, she would criticise everything he liked, she would walk around with a sour face and admonish him for any tiny thing she could think of. It was like torture. A year ago he had thought he had escaped but it seemed that no matter what he did or where he went she would always be there to drag him down. It was only made worse by the fact that he loved her, she was his mother and had given birth to him and he couldn't help the emotion.

 

That day they stopped for a break at a nearby bar, although Victor rarely drank during the day he decided that he needed one. He ordered their drinks and then went to the table where his mother sat, watching everyone with that tiny sneer on her lips. “Drinking, Victor?” She asked, arching an eyebrow as the staff brought over their drinks. “I thought you were too perfect for such a thing.”

 

Victor shrugged, half tempted to down the entire glass in one go. “I never said that.” He replied shortly, frowning into the crimson liquid in his glass. Chris had introduced him to decent wine on a spontaneous trip to France several years ago, before that he had rarely touched the stuff deeming it to taste like sour grapes. Now, however, he had acquired quite the palate for the more expensive vintages. He watched his mother drain her glass and order another from a passing waiter, he sighed under his breath but she heard him anyway.

 

“Out with it Victor.” She demanded imperiously, eyes narrowing dangerously.

 

“I didn't mean-”

 

“You have always been such a terrible liar.”

 

Victor closed his eyes, wishing he could escape and return home to Yuri's arms. “I just think that you're drinking too much. Yuri told me you drank the entire bottle of Bordeaux I was saving for our anniversary, that cost me a lot of money mother.”

 

“Says the man who has three bottles of Vodka in his fridge?” She scoffed callously and swallowed her wine, it left a light stain on her bottom lip.

 

“We were given those as a gift from some friends, they're still unopened.” Victor said sharply, sending a glare at his mother. “We both drink but no where near as much as you.”

 

“And who's fault is it that I drink? Why do you think I feel the need to drown away my worries and fears in alcohol? Hmm?”

 

Victor dropped his head, heart pounding as his grip tightened around the stem of his wine glass. “Mama...I'm sorry...I never meant-”

 

“Always the same with you, Victor. You're so selfish. You never think about anyone but yourself. I remember that day, even if you refuse to. Selective memory is very convenient.”

 

“The doctors said it was dissociative amnesia...I don't choose to become so...so forgetful. You were there when they explained it.” Victor blinked as a few vague memories floated around behind his eyes. He took a breath and let it out before lifting the glass to his lips and downing half the liquid in a few swallows.

 

“Rubbish, Victor. I know you, everything you do revolves around some misplaced hatred towards me. I did everything for you despite being a single mother and with such a large household to run.”

 

“Andrei did. Andrei did everything for me.” Victor whispered under his breath, seeing a crystal clear image of his brother by his bedside, smiling in a strained way as he smoothed Victor's hair back from his face. He shook the memory away, blinking rapidly to fight back the pain. He finished his drink and ordered another.

 

“Andrei?” Mariya scoffed.

 

“Yes. He made sure that I went to bed on time, that I had friends. He was the one who held me when I cried. It was him, not you, who gave me all that I needed.”

 

“You were clean, well dressed and had a roof over your head! What more does a child need?”

 

“You forced me to wear designer clothes, you made me eat only because other people would comment on why your son was so thin. You forced me to go to a private school I despised because the other boys were mean to me because of my hair. You ignored my pain when I needed you most!”

 

“You were a crybaby! A coward! You defied me at every turn!” Mariya was almost on her feet, her face flushed and furious. Her hands curled into fists as she lifted one and stabbed a finger in Victor's face. “You caused a scandal that the papers got hold of all because you were too pathetic to cope with a few bullies!”

 

Victor rose from his seat without his usual grace, he was shaky, his knees feeling like jelly. “Mother, please, keep your voice down! We're in public-”

 

“You humiliated me, Vitya! Your own mother! When Grigory called me to tell me you had been rushed to hospital I was worried but when I got there only to discover it was self-inflicted I have never been so embarrassed! How do you think I felt when I looked down at you, with your bandaged wrists and that bag of blood hanging by your side?! It was a deliberate act to try and get at me. You've always hated me Victor, I know that...despite all that I've done for you! You spiteful, wretched child!” She was sobbing now, her make-up running and the entire room had fallen silent. Victor swayed violently on his feet, his face pale and eyes dark as he searched the room. A couple of people pointed at him, muttering to each other and someone else took a picture on their phone. Victor turned on his heel, his breath becoming stagnant in his lungs as he stumbled out the door and into the street. He took a lungful of cool, crisp spring air and tried to calm his racing heart. He clutched at his chest, eyes wide but unseeing. He wanted to rewind the last few minutes, he wanted to go all the way back to that morning when he'd woken in Yuri's arms. He had been safe there, safe and quiet and sleepy in a good way. Now he felt weak and exhausted. Now fear was clawing up his chest, dragging itself to his throat. His breathing came in rapid bursts, the odd whistle escaping his throat as he tried to fight back the urge to be sick. He sank to his knees in the street, ignoring the stares he was getting as he tried to get himself back under control.

 

Finally...finally his breathing slowed. He closed his eyes tightly against the burning sensation and let his body slump forward, he pushed his hands deep into his hair and sat on the cold pavement as people stepped uneasily around him. If he was honest with himself he barely remembered the incident his mother was talking about, he had been thirteen years old and had been having some issues adapting to a new school. Of that much he was certain but the entire year was hazy at best, he could remember his fourteenth birthday but before that was pretty blank. It was afterwards that stuck in his memory, despite being one of the worst times of his entire life. He would never be able to forget the doctors, the people with syringes and scary masks that covered half their faces. He would never forget watching his mother walk away from him and leave him alone in the huge hospital, surrounded by strangers. He had been stuck in that place for a good while, he had no idea exactly how long as his memory grew fuzzy and patchy again after about five months but he wasn't allowed near a rink again until much later.

 

As his heart beat slowed so did his breathing, he sighed heavily as he heard the familiar sound of drunken heels clicking against concrete. He opened his eyes to find himself staring at black shoes, he looked up and squinted in the weak sunlight into his mother's face. She had her arms folded over her chest, her make-up had been neatly redone and she was glaring down at him with badly suppressed fury. “Victor, take me home.” She demanded and Victor climbed unsteadily to his feet.

 

Yuri was dozing on the sofa with Makkachin when the door opened and Victor and his mother arrived home. He sat up, blinking away sleep and yawned, he smiled. “Welcome home.” He said but both of them ignored him, he watched with growing trepidation as Victor went straight to the fridge and removed one of the bottles of Vodka from it. He took the bottle wordlessly into the bedroom, the door slammed closed and made Yuri wince. Mariya sat at the table and lit a cigarette, eyes on the ashtray as she smoked. Slowly Yuri dislodged Makkachin who whined at him before he got up and followed Victor. He knocked lightly on the door and when he received no answer he tried again; “Victor? It's me.” He said in a small voice. The door opened a crack and Yuri slipped inside, the room was dark and he saw Victor lying sprawled on the bed still dressed in his coat and shoes. He took a swallow from the bottle and watched Yuri from stormy eyes. “A-Are you...are you ok?” He asked nervously, it was a stupid question really but Yuri couldn't think of what else to say.

 

“Yuri.” Victor held out his hand and Yuri went to him, he sank down onto the bed, fingers curling with Victors as he let himself be dragged down onto his chest. With difficulty he set aside the vodka and wrapped both arms around his fiancé, almost tight enough to hurt. Yuri didn't complain though, he lay in Victor's arms and let him be close. Victor let out a slow, shaky sigh and buried his face in the crook of Yuri's neck. “It's...my fault.” He whispered, hot, alcohol scented breath made Yuri shiver.

 

“What is?” Yuri replied but all he got was a sharp shudder and then silence. Yuri sighed and stroked Victor's hair, he would talk when he wanted to. There was no point forcing the issue.

 

Victor held Yuri close and hid his face from him, unable to meet his eyes as he knew that if he did all his poison would spill out. He felt delicate, vulnerable, as if his mother had ripped him open to expose his very essence to the entire world. Maybe he should tell Yuri the truth, they were, after all, getting married at some point in the future...but he couldn't. He just couldn't bring himself to speak because of the shame. If Yuri knew the truth his mother would likely be right, he would walk away and leave Victor alone. Alone again. No, he couldn't allow that. He couldn't tell him what had happened. It would destroy everything and Yuri would finally see just what a weak, terrible person Victor was beneath all the glitz and glamour. He felt Yuri pull away enough to look down into his face, Victor averted his eyes but felt gentle fingers brush hair from his forehead that were replaced by a soft kiss. Finally Victor looked at Yuri and saw the concern in his eyes, to prevent the dangerous words from spilling from his lips he grasped Yuri's face in both hands and kissed him deeply. Yuri gasped in surprise before melting against Victor's chest, he was warm and pliant as Victor slid one hand down his back and beneath the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms. Yuri practically purred, arching his back as Victor's fingers dug deep into the flesh of his ass. Yuri gasped, back inverting as he pressed their hips together. “V-Victor...” He muttered, feeling Victor's long fingers trace the curve of his cheek and dip delicately between them. His legs parted automatically and Victor quieted him with a kiss.

 

“Shh, I need this.” Victor whispered against his mouth before shifting so he could slide Yuri's pants down. He groaned, eyebrows forming a small frown but he still refused to open his eyes.

 

“W-We shouldn't-oh-Victor...wait!” Yuri grabbed Victor's wrist and pulled him gently away so he could regain some control over the desire flooding his body. “Your mother's in the next room, I think maybe we should wait until she goes home.” He muttered, watching Victor finally look at him, his eyes were dark and visible frustration crossed his face.

 

“Yuri, please...I need this...we need this.”

 

Yuri sighed, there was just something about Victor begging that really set him on fire. “Not tonight. This is all kinds of wrong.” He replied and tried to kiss his fiancé, Victor jerked back, surprising Yuri. “Victor?”

 

“I'm going out.” He muttered, pushing Yuri gently away from him and sliding out of bed. Yuri sat on his knees, watching in confusion.

 

“But it's late, I thought-”

 

“I need to blow off some steam, Yuri. Just leave me alone.” Victor snatched up the bottle and left the room.

 

Yuri sat in the dark, wondering just what he'd done wrong and how he could fix it. Victor was obviously upset about something but Yuri had no idea what, apart from the fact that the cause was very likely his mother. Yuri sat up, eyes wide as he realised it. He slid off the bed, adjusting his pants before going to the door. He went into the living room and found Mariya still sitting at the small dining table and looking at her phone. Yuri gathered every ounce of confidence he had (which really wasn't much at all) and strode over to her, he squared his shoulders and took a breath; “I want you out of this flat by tomorrow.” He demanded, causing the woman to look up at him. Her eyes narrowed and she rose to her full, imposing height.

 

“Oh? And who are you to tell me what to do?”

 

“I'm Victor's fiancé and this is our home. I want you out of our house or I will pack your stuff for you and remove you myself. Whatever it is you did to him tonight has hurt him, I don't want you around him any more.” Yuri's confidence wavered, his hands curled into fists and he swallowed nervously. Mariya watched him for a long moment before laughing suddenly.

 

“And what has Victor to say about this, hmm? Did you think to ask him, little boy?”

 

Yuri bristled at being called 'little boy', “You're underestimating me, Ms. Nikiforov. I wouldn't do that if I were you.” He turned on his heel and returned to the bedroom, shutting the door with a loud snap. He leaned against it and took a slow breath, calming himself. Had he done the right thing? Did he even have a right to kick the woman out? He had made a bold claim but he hadn't lived with Victor for very long, not really. Perhaps when Victor returned he would be mad but Yuri just couldn't take seeing him so broken any more. He knew she was behind it and he wanted her to just leave them both alone and let them just be happy. He put his face in his hands and groaned as he slid to the floor, sitting against the door like a sentinel. He'd messed up. He'd ruined everything. Victor would be so mad when he found out Yuri had effectively kicked his mother out of the house, it would be terrible and they would break up. But no, he couldn't think like that. Yuri took another breath, expanding his lungs before releasing it slowly. He had done what he had done, there was no going back now. His motives had been pure, he wanted nothing more than to protect Victor. Victor who was out somewhere alone and drunk. Yuri stood up and snatched his phone from the side table, he found Victor's number and hit dial. It rang and rang until the voicemail answered. Yuri left Victor a message to please come home, he was worried before telling him he loved him. He hung up and settled back to wait.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was surprisingly hard to write. Not sure why. Thank you all for your patience, I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! I will just say that I find it very difficult to get into Mariya's head, not sure why but I just can't seem to write her perspective easily. Anyway, enjoy my friends!
> 
> Quick note on something that appears later in the chapter: syrniki are made from creamy quark, mixed with flour, eggs, and sugar, sometimes adding vanilla extract. The soft mixture is shaped into cakes, which are fried, generally in vegetable oil. The outside becomes crisp, and the centre is warm and creamy. They are sweet and served for breakfast or dessert. Their simplicity has made them very popular in Eastern Europe.

Victor's phone vibrated in his pocket but he ignored it. He sat at the bar, head low as he drank. People around him chatted, oblivious to his inner turmoil. He hadn't meant to be so harsh to Yuri but he was so angry and frustrated he had ended up taking it out on him, it wasn't Yuri's fault but Victor knew he would be blaming himself. When he returned he would apologise but for now he couldn't stand the idea of being around another human being. He needed to be alone, to drink away his problems just like his mother. He hated that comparison but it was undeniably true, he had spent years denying the truth but it was glaringly obvious to everyone but himself. Whenever life got hard he turned to alcohol, it was unhealthy, it was going to destroy him but he had no other way of dealing with his issues. Yakov had tried to get him to see a therapist but he had declined, they would only make him remember and the last time someone had tried that he had fallen to pieces. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to know the details. He could go to Yuri but Yuri had his own issues, his anxiety wouldn't be able to cope with the levels of angst Victor would drop on him. It was best no one knew. He knew, from his mother, that he had been hospitalised after an attempted suicide. He knew that later she had had him committed in a psychiatric hospital for it. However, knowing was different from remembering, he would rather not have those memories. He also knew that the papers had lapped it all up, digging deep into his past and finding dirt to share with the world. Yakov had tried to shut them down, doing the job of manager instead of coach. He had tried but somehow the story of his breakdown had found its way into the local public paper, his mother had been blaming him ever since. 

Victor sighed and pushed one hand into his hair, staring blindly down at the bar as he ran a finger through the condensation on his glass. Closing his eyes he pictured Yuri, the one saving grace in his life. The man who had made him see that there was good in the world. He hadn't intended on actually becoming engaged, but things had happened and he couldn't be happier with his circumstances. He smiled to himself as he thought of what his life would have been like if he hadn't met Yuri, he would have quit skating, he knew that. He would have sunk back into the grey fog that obscured his childhood. Maybe he would have taken the easy way out again. But now...now he had Yuri. Now he had a man who had shown him what love truly was. He had found a new family, one that loved him and supported him. He sighed shakily as he downed his drink and ordered another, when he had it he reached into his pocket and sent a brief text to his fiancé. He smiled to himself again as he put his phone back in his pocket. 

Yuri's phone vibrated loudly on the bedside table, he groaned as he reached for it and brought it to his face. He opened the text and read it;

I love you.

Yuri's face heated, despite the fact that there was no one around. He put a hand to his face and smiled into it as he replied without looking. He put his phone back on the table and curled up, hugging Victor's pillow and grinning into it like a love-struck teenager.

Victor looked at the reply and his smile brightened;

You too. Idiot. Get home safe.

He laughed to himself and rose, handing over money before turning to the door and leaving the bar. It was very late but as he walked a fresh breeze stirred his hair and he looked up at the star spattered sky. He walked home, wanting nothing more than to hold his husband-to-be close.

Yuri was awake when Victor came into the room, he sat up and held out his hand, Victor went to him and let himself be pulled to the bed. Yuri pressed a soft kiss to Victor's jaw and sighed, pressing their foreheads together. “I was worried.” He said simply and felt Victor's arms wrap him up. 

“I'm sorry, I was...in a bad mood. I shouldn't have taken it out on you.”

“No, you shouldn't but it's ok. Let's just go to sleep, yeah?”

“Hmm. Yeah, just let me get dressed, I can't sleep in my clothes.” Victor kissed Yuri's forehead and drew reluctantly away.

When he was in nothing but a pair of sleeping pants he slid back beneath the covers, Yuri watched him from heavily lidded eyes and a small smirk on his lips. It was an expression Victor knew only too well. The alcohol in his system was making him a little bit more reckless than usual and when he dragged his fiancé close he pressed his obvious erection against his thigh. “I don't think I can sleep like this, my love.”

Yuri's smirk broadened, “Well, your mother should be asleep now...so...I guess there won't be a problem.” Before Victor could respond Yuri slid beneath the covers and was pulling down his pants. 

“Yuri!” Victor squeaked as cool fingers teased him. 

“Shh, don't wake her up.” Yuri hissed back before the cool fingers were replaced by wet heat. Victor bit down on his fist, trying to stifle any sounds he might make. His other hand went to Yuri's hair and he gripped the thick strands as hard as he could without causing undue pain.

Victor was woken that morning by a sharp rap on his door, beside him Yuri groaned and rolled over but didn't open his eyes. Victor's head throbbed with the beginnings of a hang over and he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, stifling a huge yawn that threatened to break his jaw. The knock came again, this time with a sharp, querulous voice that made his stomach tighten. Victor sighed, lying still for a moment before he finally sat up and slid out of bed. He wrapped himself up in his dressing gown and opened the door a crack. “Mama?” He muttered thickly, rubbing at his eye and yawning again. “It's early.”

Mariya stood before the door with her arms crossed and an angry look on her face, she took in his dishevelled appearance and noted his nudity beneath his dressing gown. “We need to talk.” She demanded simply and turned away from the door, Victor frowned at her retreating back but she turned on him with a commanding glare. Victor sighed and closed the door behind him so he wouldn't disturb Yuri, he went straight to his kitchen and put on the coffee machine, while it bubbled he got a mug and then turned to face his mother across the counter. “Well?” He asked irritably. “Why are you waking me up so early on my day off?”

“You look a disgrace.” Mariya snapped, her eyes falling to an obvious bruise on his left shoulder. Victor frowned and shrugged the shoulder of his dressing gown further up to cover it.

“It's six am, mama. I'm not going to wake up looking immaculate. What do you want?”

“Your little toy told me I had to leave this morning.” Mariya said, her eyes moving to her hands as they twisted in her lap. “He...he told me last night you didn't want me here, is this true? Why would you not want your own mother in your home?”

Victor frowned, he was too hung over for this. “What? Yuri wouldn't say such things. Don't be so paranoid.” He snapped, turning to the coffee machine as it finished, he poured himself a cup and brought it to his lips. He took a sip and finally turned back to see his mother...crying. He gaped at her for a second before setting down his cup and going hesitantly to her side. “M-mama?” He asked, hovering over her, uncertain what to do. 

“H-he told me you didn't need me any more...that you had him now. Is this true, Vitya? Do you really not need me?”

Victor blinked, “Yuri wouldn't-”

“Well he did!”

“Mama...of course I need you, you're...you're my mother. I would never-”

“Then what are you going to do, Vitya? You need to choose. Me or your little boy-toy...”

“No. No I am not choosing!” Victor shook his head rapidly, eyes wide and confused. He stepped back, rubbing his face with one hand. “Why would I have to choose? I love you both.”

“Yes but that boy has already told me to go. Would you be so cruel as to see me kicked out onto the streets?”

Victor shook his head mutely, he couldn't let his mother leave. She was old and his childhood home was a long way away, it would take her a long time to find transport back and that was only if Girgory wasn't too busy maintaining the huge mansion. She hated hotels and refused to stay in them, she said they made her feel bad. Victor finally found his voice again; “You can stay with us as long as you need to.” He said tightly, he hadn't forgotten about her outburst in the bar the previous afternoon but he couldn't very well let her find her own way home. It was unfair.

Mariya smirked at him, she rose and walked around the counter to Victor. She lifted her hands and put them both on his cheeks before pulling him down and placing a soft kiss to his left one. “Thank you, Vitya.” She whispered but Victor jerked away from her, she rarely touched him and it was too much for him to process all at once. He stepped back and snatched his coffee up, taking a sip to hide the way his hands shook. He was half-tempted to put a shot of something in his coffee but refrained. Instead he went to the oven and set about making some breakfast, he would have to speak to Yuri about what he had said. He frowned as he cooked, unable to understand why Yuri would kick an old lady out like that. It was too cruel and seemed horribly out of character. He kept his back to his mother and didn't see the smug smile on her face.

Yuri woke to the smell of breakfast, he rose and put on some pyjamas and a dressing gown before heading out, following his nose. He shoved his glasses on as he stepped into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Victor's waist, pressing his face between his shoulder blades. “Good morning, Victor.” He mumbled.

“Yuri.” Victor replied, his voice a little stiff. Yuri released him, taking note of the tension in his shoulders. “I'm making syrniki, go sit down.”

Yuri frowned and pushed his glasses further up onto his face before leaving Victor to it and moving to the table. He spotted Mariya sitting there already, his hands curled into fists and he gave her a glare. She sipped at her tea and smirked at him, Victor was oblivious to their silent communications. Yuri sat down heavily and poured himself some tea, finally Victor set a plate before him and put a hand in his hair affectionately. Yuri smiled and looked up at him, however, Victor's returning smile was somewhat strained as he took his own seat between his mother and fiancé. They ate in awkward silence for a moment before Mariya spoke. “Andrei used to make these for you, Vitya.”

“Yes, Mama. He taught me.” Victor replied stiffly, he glanced over at Yuri who had a questioning look on his face but before he could answer Mariya did.

“Andrei was Victor's older brother.” She said with a hint of ice in her voice, “He died a long time ago.”

Victor sighed under his breath while Yuri's eyes widened. “I had no idea you had a brother.” He said, “I'm sorry.”

“I was thirteen when he died. I don't remember what happened.” Victor lowered his head and tried to eat but the food tasted like sand in his mouth.

Mariya watched her son from beneath her eyelashes, “He died of a heart attack, Vitya.” Victor's hands clenched on his cutlery but he made no move to speak. “He was only thirty.”

“Mother...”

Mariya ignored Victor's quiet plea, “Vitya had come home from school and found his body. It was...a terrible day. He was so broken that he-”

“That's enough.” Victor stood up abruptly, his fork clattering to the floor. He pushed hair from his eyes and started clearing away the plates, Yuri noticed his hands shaking.

Mariya smiled, taking another sip of tea as she leaned back in her chair. “Don't you think it is about time he knew, Vitya?”

Victor put the dishes in the sink and leaned against it, his hands gripping the side hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “...I...can't...” He gasped.

“Victor, you don't have to-”

“Oh but it wouldn't be fair.” Mariya spoke over Yuri but didn't look at him, her eyes boring into Victor's back. “If you're going to marry him wouldn't it be best he's aware of your dark past?”

“Mother, stop this.”

“You cannot ignore it forever, Victor. It's not fair on your brother's memory.”

“Mama...”

“Tell him or I will.”

Victor let out a breath, he hung his head and grit his teeth. However, he remained silent.

“No...No I don't want to know if Victor's not-”

“It's his fault his brother died.” Mariya said firmly, causing Yuri to gasp. He snapped his head around to look at her with wide eyes.

“You said it was a heart attack.” He said through numb lips.

“Indeed it was but Victor caused it. You see he was a difficult child, rebellious and he never listened to me. I had a hard time with him, being a single mother and having to run a large household. He skipped school, he ignored his duties to go cavorting with some other boys. I swear he had another boyfriend every five minutes. I despaired, I truly did. His brother however, spoiled him, he neglected his own wife to try to handle Victor but Victor has always been selfish. Andrei ended up having a heart attack because Victor caused him to overwork himself, he should have been with his own family that day but he was looking for Victor who had decided to run away from school. Victor found him in the living room, lying on the floor. Grigory found them both later, Victor was curled in a corner, unable to speak. The doctors say it was trauma, but I doubt that. He was trying to draw attention away from Andrei and onto himself. He stopped talking for a month, even after the funeral, people fawned over him. It was a disgusting display, even his coach Mr. Feltsman was coddling the boy. No one cared about my grief, no one was worried about how I felt-”

“Mama...stop. No more.”

Yuri looked back to Victor who looked as if he was going to throw up, he was white as a sheet and swaying a little. Yuri was on his feet before he could think, he drew Victor into his arms and pressed a kiss to his collar bone. “I'm sorry.” He whispered. “I never knew...”

Victor shook his head but couldn't speak, he closed his eyes and buried his nose in Yuri's fragrant hair. After a moment he took a breath; “I don't...I don't remember exactly...It's all...very dark but I...I...I did blame myself. It's my fault.”

“No. No Victor, it's not.” Yuri looked up at him, staring into his eyes as he tried to get the truth across. “How is it your fault? People have tragic heart attacks all the time, you can't blame yourself.”

“Yuri...” Victor breathed, a small, weak little smile curling the corner of his mouth. Gently he used a shaking thumb to brush hair from Yuri's eyes. “You're too good for me.”

Yuri laughed, going a little pink and averting his face, “No...I'm just...I'm just me.”

Mariya watched the affectionate display with a frown, her tea had gone cold as they comforted each other but all she could think was how it was so unfair that Victor always got the sympathy. It wasn't right. Victor had effectively murdered Andrei, as surely as if he had poisoned him. Everyone was under Victor's spell, it was disgusting and wrong. Her eyes moved to Yuri who was being cradled against her son's chest as if he were the most precious thing in the world, her frown was replaced by another smirk. She would get her own way, no matter what.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I am so, so sorry to my readers! I have been having a really terrible time recently and writing has been so far from my mind. My granddad was hospitalised and subsequently passed away and his funeral is next week so I've been really out of touch with everything. On top of that I've been really ill on and off for ages (can't seem to get rid of this damn cold!) and so it's been kind of hellish overall. Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for my absence even if it is short and not very exciting. Enjoy and thank you all so, so much for commenting/Kudos-ing and everything.

 

Yuri watched with rapt attention as Victor took to the ice. Yakov stood by the barrier, frowning as he took mental notes. Yurio sipped water, also surreptitiously watching victor perform his new short programme routine in its entirety.

 

As usual it was breathtaking. Victor moved as if his bones were made of liquid. The music was slow, a steady, thrumming beat consisting of acoustic instruments. Victor's theme was 'desire' for this season, he had divulged to Yuri that it represented his extreme desire for love outside of skating before he had met him. Yuri had seen some of Victor's costume designs based heavily on cupid and containing white feathers and lace. It was a beautiful routine and full of longing and passion. It expressed loneliness, pain and then finally the fulfilment. He moved with all the grace of an angel and Yuri was captivated, left breathless as Victor ended his routine with head bowed, arms crossed behind his back. Slowly he lifted his head and immediately sought out his fiancé. Yuri answered his unasked questions with a huge grin which Victor returned, blue eyes sparkling as he slid across the ice towards him. They embraced over the barrier, Yuri leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. “That was beautiful, Victor.” He whispered as Victor pulled away, giving him a salacious wink.

 

“You just wait to see what I have planned for my free programme.” He replied smoothly before Yakov called him over to discuss technicalities.

 

“Damn it.” Yurio swore under his breath, moving towards Yuri with a frown. “I'm going to have to step it up if I want to beat him.” He jerked his thumb in Victor's direction and Yuri smiled.

 

“So am I.” Yuri sighed. “I have so much work to do.”

 

Yurio smirked around his bottle of water, eyeing Yuri, “What's your theme?”

 

“What's yours?” Yuri retorted.

 

“Rebirth.” Yurio replied smugly, “Yakov thought it was appropriate seeing how I've changed so much since my debut.” Yurio said nothing more as Yakov called him over to take his turn, Victor returned to Yuri's side and their fingers entwined as they both turned to watch Yuri run through his entire routine. Yakov started the music as Yurio took his starting pose, head up and arms above his head. It was a shock to hear the first few piano notes move into a heavier base. Victor's eyes lit up and he laughed to himself, Yuri raised an eyebrow at him. “This is Nine Inch Nails...a song called 'Just Like You Imagined'” He watched Yuri move to the beat, rolling with the music with a small frown of concentration on his face. “I'm excited to see his costume.” He added as an afterthought.  
  
Yuri had to agree that it fit the Russian Punk perfectly. He wouldn't be surprised to see Yurio's costume being made of leather and studs.  
  
The music faded out and Yurio kept his head low, legs crossed and held the position for a second until he finally looked up to look to his coach.

 

Victor stepped off the ice and Yuri handed him his skate guards, together they went over to Yakov to hear him tell Yurio something in a muted whisper. Yurio huffed, pushing sweaty hair from his face with a wrinkled nose. He replied snappily in Russian and Yakov growled, glaring his youngest student into submission. Finally Yurio cursed at him and picked up a cloth from a bench, he wiped his face and snatched up his phone, walking away despite Yakov's increasingly loud shouts of his name. Yakov turned and was about to ask Victor something when a voice interrupted.

 

“Personally, I thought the child did well.” Mariya's voice sent a chill through the room that had little to do with the ice. Yuri shifted uncomfortably as Yakov gave the woman a stern look before dismissing her and rounding on Victor.

 

“Your footwork needs work, Vitya.” Yakov snapped gruffly, Victor sighed. “You're not as young as you were, you should remember that when you choreograph your programmes. Yurio is too arrogant in some areas, he has too much confidence and so, it seems, do you. Remember you took a year off, you are not going to be in your usual peak condition. Start simple and work up to the harder stuff.”

 

Victor pouted, “But how will I ever surprise anyone like that?”

  
“Vitya, _listen_ for once.” Yakov grumbled seriously, taking hold of Victor's arms so he had his full attention. “If you do too much too soon you will injure yourself.” Victor's face went blank and he nodded as Yakov released him, “Good. Now, go practice that step sequence. Your free leg was sloppy, you moved like you were made of wood.” Yakov dismissed him and Yuri caught a small, fond smile flicker across Victor's face as they turned away.

 

“Victor.”

 

Victor and Yuri turned just as they were collecting their things in the locker room, Mariya was watching them from the door way with a frown. “What is it Mama?” Victor sighed, picking up his sweaty shirt and stuffing it into his training bag.

 

“That young Yuri's routine is truly beautiful, don't you think, Victor?”

 

Victor glanced at her over his shoulder, a small frown marring his face. “Yes. He's a very talented boy.”

 

“Do you truly think that you will win gold with your performance?”

 

Yuri heard Victor take a breath as he steeled himself against what he knew was coming, he picked up his team jacket and slipped it on all while keeping his back to his mother. “What was wrong with it? Yakov told me what I need to improve on.”

 

“Well...It was a little...lack-lustre, don't you think?”

 

“No Mama. I like it.”

 

“Well, of course _you_ would.” Mariya sighed, shaking her head.

 

Yuri was slowly stowing his things away in his bag, taking his time only so he had an excuse to remain close to Victor while his mother was on the rampage. He kept his head down, avoiding accidentally making eye contact with Mariya and making the situation worse.

 

“Mama, you don't know anything about skating-”

 

“I know enough.” Mariya cut Victor off, sniffing as if offended by the insinuation she didn't know something. “I think, perhaps, you should push yourself. If you have any desire to actually win something this year then you need to make sure that you can stand up against younger, better skaters like that Plisetsky boy.”

 

“Mama, if I push mysel-”

 

“Do you not want to win?”

 

“Generally, yes but-”

 

“Then it shouldn't be an issue. Vitya, I paid for all your training until you turned eighteen. It is hardly fair if you sabotage yourself now. I deserve at least a gold medal, do I not? For all the hard work I put in helping you reach this point in your career?”

 

Victor's shoulder's stiffened and he finally turned around, however, before he could speak Mariya walked away. Yuri waited for the sound of her heels to fade before he slid to Victor's side and slipped their fingers together. “Victor?” He asked uncertainly, trying to see his fiancé's expression.

 

“I'm ok, Yuri.” Victor said after a seconds hesitation. He looked up and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

 

The bathroom mirror was steamed up, the scent of expensive body wash permeated the air. Victor lifted an arm and wiped away some of the condensation on the mirror to reveal his face. His wet hair was plastered to his skin so he lifted his hands and pushed it back, it revealed his retreating hair line, yet another painful reminder of his age. Too close to thirty. Too close to middle age. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes briefly, shutting out the sight of the ageing idol and replacing it with darkness. Both hands clenched on the sink as he rested his weight on his arms, listening to the sound of water draining from the large, luxury bath. Yuri had insisted that he have a bath instead of a shower, and he was glad he had. It reminded him a little of Yuri's family Onsen, the one place he had nothing but fond memories of.

 

Abruptly a soft knock at the bathroom door snapped him back from some of his few complete memories. He heard Yuri's soft voice, muffled by the thick wooden door; “Victor? We're going to be late.”

 

Victor smiled brightly, the mirror reflecting his happiness straight back at him. He adored Yuri's pretty, lilting accent. He loved hearing how it turned a somewhat harsh language like English into a song. He loved the way Yuri twisted Victor's own native Russian into something almost as beautiful as he himself was. Of course, he was still learning and had difficulty with certain sounds but he was doing well, he had an aptitude for language that impressed many who met him. Victor was slowly learning some Japanese, however, judging by Yuri's wince he tended to butcher it rather a lot. Yurio had somehow picked it up much faster and easier than Victor, he suspected it had something to do with his age and the frequent not-so-secret secret conversations he still had with Yuuko over social media.

 

“Victor?”

 

“Oh yes. I'll be out in a minute.”

 

“Ok. Well, Phichit is waiting at the bar with Chris.”

 

“Don't worry, we'll be fashionably late.”

 

He heard Yuri snort and could easily imagine how he shook his head with a fond smile. Victor took another breath and, without looking back at his reflection, started to dry himself.

 

When Victor was dressed he exited the bedroom to find Yuri sat at the kitchen counter and scratching Makkachin behind his ears. Victor's mother was nowhere in sight so Victor allowed himself to relax a little. He walked up behind his Fiance and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his face into his neck and taking a deep, content breath. “Hey there gorgeous.” He purred, eyes closed as he felt Yuri vibrate with stifled giggles as his voice ticked his neck.

 

“Victor, come on, we can't be too late or Phichit will never let me live it down. It's his last night here, I want to make it good.”

 

Victor pulled away reluctantly but ran his hands through Yuri's slicked back hair, he tilted Yuri's head up and leaned down to press a brief kiss to his lips. “Ok. Let's go.”

 

The bar was loud when Victor and Yuri walked in, it was a nice place with plenty of seating and a light, relaxed atmosphere. Yuri looked around for their friends while Victor headed straight for the bar to get them some drinks, he spotted Chris' two-tone hair first and then his shorter friend. He grinned and waved, watching Phichit half-rise in his seat and wave back enthusiastically. Yuri walked over to them, weaving between seats until he reached their table and was immediately swept into a tight embrace with Chris. “Oh Yuri, your ass feels as good as always.” He muttered into Yuri's ear, squeezing his ass in both hands. Yuri pulled himself away just as Victor arrived, holding two drinks.

 

“Well, Chris, I feel left out.” Victor pouted playfully as he set the drinks on the table.

 

“Victor, baby, you know you're my only true love. Come here you beautiful bastard.”

 

While Chris and Victor embraced Yuri sat beside Phichit. “Sorry we're late.” He said as Chris tried to grab Victor's ass and missed as he dodged away, long years of being his friend had given him plenty of practice at dodging Chris' wondering hands.

 

“It's fine. It was nice to catch up with Chris for a while. He has some good news!” Phichit jerked his head in Chris' direction and Yuri followed his gaze, the light flashed off of a very expensive ring around Chris' left finger. It took Yuri a moment to catch up before realisation hit him.

 

“You're married!” He exclaimed loudly, suddenly realising his error and slapping a hand to his mouth as people turned to look over at them in irritation. Chris turned and pouted sulkily, shifting weight onto one hip.

 

“You ruined my surprise, Yuri.” He grumbled but when Victor began to congratulate him he forgot his disappointment and held out his left hand for them all to inspect. “Masumi and I eloped.” He beamed proudly as Victor grabbed his hand and inspected the ring, turning it one way and then the other. It had a several tiny diamonds set into a band of red gold. “It was a small wedding, just me and Massa and his parents but it was so romantic.” He sighed and sank back into his seat.

 

“Well, we need details!” Victor exclaimed excitedly and leaned forward, one hand reaching for Yuri's under the table. Their fingers entwined and they listened to Chris describe his wedding in detail, including a practical slide show of pictures on his phone.

 

The night drew on, the table was now full of empty bottles and their laughter was easy and light. Chris kept insisting that Victor needed to marry Yuri as fast as possible before Chris decided he needed to steal Yuri and keep him as a pet. Phichit kept insisting on selfies, recording a lot of Yuri when he thought he wasn't looking. Their social media accounts were buzzing, full of pictures of the four of them having a good time.

 

An hour before Yuri and Victor were intending to return home their exuberant get together was interrupted by the appearance of Victor's mother. The atmosphere at the table turned uncomfortable as Mariya spotted them from by the door, her cold eyes fixating on Victor as she glided over. She was dressed as beautifully as always, her perfume as expensive as Victor's cologne. As she approached Victor rose smoothly, offering her his seat with a strained smile. Chris looked from him, to Mariya and then to Yuri and seemed to come to the conclusion that something was off. He smiled at the newcomer and held out his hand to her elegantly, resting his head on his other hand so his wedding ring was obvious. “Good evening, my name is Christophe Giacometti-”

 

“I know who you are.” Mariya replied coolly, glancing at Chris' offered hand before looking away and returning her attention back to Victor. “Dear, could you get your mama a drink?”

 

Victor forced a smile, despising how rude she was being before going to the bar. He ordered her drink and took the few moments alone to attempt to compose himself. When he returned the table had lapsed into uncomfortable silence, Phichit was diligently checking his social media accounts and trying to act busy while Yuri studied his own finger nails. Chris was lounging in his seat, arms stretched out and legs crossed in a way that stretched the material of his trousers over his thighs. He was eyeing Victor's mother from beneath his long eyelashes, as if she were some curiosity in a tourist shop he was trying to work out. When Victor arrived Yuri got up and grabbed a seat from a nearby empty table so Victor could sit. Victor sat between Yuri and Chris while his mother sipped her wine with a soft contented sigh, she then offered everyone a large smile that never really reached her eyes. Chris smiled to himself before leaning close to Victor's ear and whispering; “Ta mère est si grossière, Vitya.” _Your mother is so rude, Vitya._

 

Victor didn't reply and simply picked up his drink, wondering if he would need something stronger later.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I have come to give a chapter full of angst because I enjoy torturing my faves. I will warn that there is a moment of dissociation in this chapter, now I do suffer from it on occasion however, it is related to my autism so I have no idea if it would feel different/be different in Victor's situation. If it is wrong I apologise, I described it in the way I feel it as it's my only point of reference. So...anyway, Chris is my fave. I love Chris. I don't understand anyone who doesn't. Lol. Enjoy and thank you all for Kudos-ing and commenting! I love you all.

“Did you see Plisetky's exhibition last month?” Phichit said excitedly, leaning forward to show them all a video of the event. It had been a charity event for underprivileged children and something Yurio refused to talk about, despite the media singing his praises for doing it.

 

“Yes, I remember it.” Victor smiled, sipping his drink. “He did very well.”

 

“He deserves his title of Russian Fairy.” Chris agreed amicably. “I was awed when I saw the livestream.”

 

“Did he choreograph it himself?” Phichit asked watching as Yurio performed a perfect Quad.

 

“Well, mostly he did. I overheard him asking Yuri for advice on his step sequences though.” Victor turned his fiancé with a wink, enjoying the soft flush staining his cheeks. He always got embarrassed whenever Victor brought up how much Yurio admired him.

 

“I only gave him advice, I didn't do anything much really.” Yuri mumbled, taking a drink to hide his awkwardness.

 

“I adore Plisetsky. He is such a wonderful performer.” Mariya interrupted, smiling as she watched the video. “He is so elegant, so pretty. I'm sure he has an impressive future ahead of him. I suspect he will even gain more gold medals than Vitya.” Victor said nothing, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and finished the rest of his drink. “He has already broken one of Vitya's world records, it won't be long before he breaks the other.”

 

“Yuri broke it first. It's Yuri's record now.” Phichit chimed in, smiling over at his friend with pride. Yuri flushed again and almost choked on his drink at the praise.

 

“No, no! It's not really-”

 

“Oh Yuri, you're too cute. You owned that record, darling. I was so jealous when I had to follow your performance.” Chris winked and Yuri dipped his head, hiding from the uncomfortable looks he was getting.

 

“I must have missed that.” Mariya replied blithely. “I suppose the media weren't too interested in covering it.”

 

Victor tensed a little and shot his mother a frown, “Mama, you know the media went crazy over here as well as I do.”

 

“Perhaps, Vitya. I suppose it's only natural that such a shocking event cause a stir, a boy from nowhere breaks Victor Nikiforov's world record would make headlines.”

 

Yuri didn't miss the subtle barb hidden in her words and tried to brush it off, however he couldn't help but wonder how correct she was.

 

“I read that Victor's fans were excited to have their idol beaten by his own student and boyfriend.” Chris added nonchalantly, lifting his wine glass to his lips and fixing Mariya with a challenging gaze.

 

“And you can read Russian?” She arched an eyebrow curiously.

 

“Oui. When you're friends with _Vitya_ you learn to pick up a few things, Madam.” Chris shrugged casually, “Of course when I first met your son I fell in love at first sight, but then who hasn't?” He tipped a wink Yuri's way and caused him to giggle. “He's got so many fan's within the skating community as well as outside it, I learnt to read some Russian when he gave me one of the flowers from his winners bouquet. I admire and love your son, Ms. Nikiforov.”

 

Victor gave Chris a wide, beaming smile and Yuri sent him a warm look of gratitude. Mariya turned to look at her son, meeting Victor's eyes. Victor's shoulder's stiffened and he looked away, standing up to go get himself another drink.

 

Mariya sighed, a sound only the very put-upon make. She brushed strands of grey hair from her eyes and took an elegant sip of her wine. “I do worry about Vitya.” She said quietly, glancing around the table as if to gauge their reactions. “He's not as young as he was, I worry he's not going to be able to keep up with all these younger skaters.”

 

Chris watched her, something in his eyes gleaming as if in recognition. “He's a competitor, he will do fine.” He glanced to Yuri who was looking down at his hands, as if trying to ignore the conversation.

 

“Fine? Perhaps.” Mariya replied, “I worry he may get himself injured.”

 

“It's a risk we all take, Madam.” Chris shrugged, “I myself was injured a few years ago, I sprained my ankle. I know many others who have also suffered worse on the ice. Vitya is well aware of his limitations, he knows when to push and when to hold back.” Although his words seemed to convey understanding of a parents worry, his tone was cool. He seemed somewhat wary around her, his eyes moving to search for Victor while he left Mariya to process his words.

 

“Do you remember that time in college that I tore my knee ligaments?” Phichit chimed in, looking to Yuri. “I thought my career was over before it really began.”

 

“Luckily it wasn't that bad.” Yuri nodded, “Celestino was almost tearing his hair out with worry though. You really freaked him out...and me.” Yuri added as an after thought.

 

“Good job I didn't need an operation, huh?” Phichit smiled brightly. “Although I was on rest for three weeks. Worst three weeks of my life!”

 

Yuri chuckled, “More like the worst three weeks of mine, I swear Celestino made me do your work out as well as my own.”

 

“At least you _could_ work out!” Phichit nudged Yuri with his elbow, they grinned at each other as they shared memories of their time in Detroit.

 

“I remember the last time Vitya injured himself.” Mariya sighed, “I had to take an entire month off work to look after him. It was a difficult time for me.”

 

Chris' eyes narrowed and a dark look crossed his face before he forced a smile, “I'm sure it was even worse for Victor, he was the one injured after all.”

 

“He got to stay in bed while I did all the work, it wasn't that difficult for him. I was the one who had to sacrifice my time to nurse him.”

 

Chris only hummed at that, finishing his drink before rising with the excuse that he was going to use the bathroom. He went in search of Victor and found him at the bar, gripping a glass half-full of clear liquid and staring into it as if it held all the answers of the universe. “Victor?” He looked up when Chris said his name, a goofy smile appearing on his face. “Are you feeling ok?”

 

“Oh yes, I'm fine.” Victor replied with forced levity. “I'm sorry I left you with my mother like that.”

 

Chris took a seat at his friends side and ordered a glass of water, he removed the vodka from Victor's hand and replaced it with the water glass. “Drink that.” He ordered firmly. Victor pouted sulkily but did as he was told, downing the water in one. “Now, my dear, let me tell you something you are not going to like,” Chris watched Victor's face fall into a frown, “You need to send your mother home. You need to get her away from you and Yuri as soon as possible.” He looked into Victor's eyes and saw the soft glow of fear and guilt, an entire lifetime of it. Chris sighed, reaching up to cup Victor's face gently, “If you do not send her away she will destroy you and ruin your relationship with Yuri. You know I am right, mon cher.”

 

“I can't, Chris.” Victor sighed, pulling Chris' hand from his cheek and squeezing it briefly. “She's my mother. She's old and she needs her family around her.”

 

“Vitya, she's dangerous.” Chris muttered in a low voice, leaning closer and speaking to slower to emphasise his words. “I know. I really do.”

 

There was a pause that was filled with the low hum of chatter at the bar before Victor took a breath and looked away, “My mother's just...lonely.” He said stiffly, the lie tasted like ash on his tongue but he had spoken it so often it was a natural response.

 

“When I was twelve my father sold my TV, despite the fact that it had been a gift from my grandmother. He said that I didn't own it, everything in his house was his and he could do whatever he wanted with it.” Chris said, taking up Victor's abandoned drink and finishing it in one gulp. “When I was fifteen, after I scraped silver in my Senior debut he refused to come and yet not a week later went to my brother's university graduation. He brought my brother a very expensive car but refused to buy me new skates, I had to save up my own money from my part time job to get some. On my seventeenth birthday Maman made me a cake, it was beautiful with my name on it and a pair of tiny fondant skates on top...my father gave it all to my brother and his friends. My party that evening was a cheap one; no music, no games and I wasn't even allowed to invite any friends over. Victor, I understand.” Chris put his hand lightly on Victor's wrist, Victor stared at it for a moment before lifting his eyes to Chris'.

 

“She was always bitter that she couldn't turn Andrei against me.” Victor whispered through numb lips, the alcohol seemed to have loosened something inside him. He winced at the admission and moved as if to pick up a glass but Chris had already drunk it.

 

Chris smiled, “My brother was two years older than me, he used to beat me when my father told him I needed to be punished.” He said, shrugging as if he didn't care. “My younger sister, being the baby of the family, was allowed to get away with murder. She would turn my friends against me by spreading vicious lies and was always praised by my father. My mother tried, bless her, she always tried but she passed away when I turned twenty.”

 

Something in the back of Victor's mind started itching, as if a memory was trying to get through in recognition of Chris' experiences. He shook it away, ignoring the fuzzy memory before it could fully form. “...Where...where are your family?” Victor asked daringly.

 

“My sister came to my wedding.” Chris smiled brightly, hazel eyes ablaze with happiness. “She apologised for the way she had treated me and we're slowly unlearning what our father taught us. Massumi is very supportive. As for my father and brother? Well, I have no idea. I left not long after Maman's funeral, I had no reason to remain. I brought a house in _Genève_ with Massumi, the rest is history.”

 

“So you have no contact with your father?” Victor tilted his head curiously.

 

“Non. Why would I? I hated the man.” Chris shrugged it away casually, “You need to do the same, Vitya, if not for yourself then for Yuri. She is poisonous, and will ruin everything that has any chance of making you happy.”

 

Victor's gaze drifted over to the table where Mariya still sat, seemingly stewing in her own anger and bitterness as Phichit claimed all of Yuri's attention. Victor was grateful for that much, at least. He understood, suddenly, that Chris was right. His mother had been the cause of the vast majority of his previous failed relationships, she was the reason he had lived twenty years without truly living and without love. She had forced herself into his relationships and broken them apart long before Victor ever had a chance to feel more than physical attraction, her insidious words had seeped into his mind and destroyed any chance he had of ever truly trusting anyone. That was until Yuri. Until that moment that he had seen Yuri dance at the banquet, until he had watched Yuri perform his own programme with an ethereal perfection that had caused Victor to abandon his life in Russia and fly all the way to Japan. He couldn't allow his mother to ruin his joy, not again.

 

Later they all left the bar, Phichit and Yuri exchanged a long farewell while Chris embraced Victor and they parted ways. Yuri moved to Victor's side and their fingers found each other, their hands clasping easily as they walked side-by-side. Mariya walked a few steps behind them in cold silence and Victor tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut as he tried to think about how he was going to broach the subject of sending his mother home. For years upon years Victor had been trained to expect dire, often terrifying consequences for defying his mother and even now, at twenty-nine, he was terrified of her reaction. He knew it would be bad, he knew she would blow up and accuse him of things but he also knew he didn't have a choice. It had to be done and the quicker he did it, the better for all of them. So, when they got home to his flat he sent Yuri to bed telling him he would be there soon before following his mother into the kitchen where she was searching the fridge for some more alcohol. Victor got her a glass as she produced one of his birthday bottles, he pushed away the flash of irritation that rose within him, it would do no good for him to get angry too. He let her fill her glass before speaking. “Mama?” She looked at him expectantly. Victor took a breath and let it out slowly, turning away to pour himself a drink, he downed it for courage and tried again. “Mama, tomorrow I want you to go home.” He said, refusing to look up and meet her eyes.

 

“Are you kicking me out, Vitya?” She said slowly, her words slurring from the amount she had drunk. Victor felt terror curl in his belly, he had to forcefully remind himself that he was an adult now, he should be able to stand up to her.

 

“Yes.” He said finally, after a long and awkward pause. “Yuri and I need our space and you living here is not healthy for any of us.”

 

“In what way is it not healthy, Vitya?” Mariya scoffed, pouring herself another glass.

 

Victor took a breath, “Because you're a bully and a self-centred, miserable old woman.” He said, and then winced at his own words. He had always had those thoughts but had been too afraid to speak them out loud, his mother's conditioning had had him second guessing himself and even now he wondered if those words were true or were his own exaggerations. Even the doctors and therapists had never believed him, maybe he _was_ the crazy one.

 

Mariya's hand stilled as she brought the glass to her lips, her eyes narrowed viciously and Victor couldn't help the urge to step back. “Me? Self-centred?” She gave a loud, false laugh and waved a hand in an exaggerated motion, spilling some vodka over her wrist. “You are the most selfish person I have ever met, Vitya! You are always exaggerating and outright lying about your childhood, everything you do is a way to get at me. You defy me at every turn! And now you have the gall to kick me, your own mother, out of your house? If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even be able to live in such a nice part of this city! If it wasn't for me then you would be lying dead in some gutter somewhere! Don't you dare try to blame me for your short-comings, Viktor!”

 

A surge of anger leapt up into his belly and before Victor could stop himself he snapped; “Everything I own is mine! I earned this flat and everything inside it! I earned every medal I ever won! You had nothing to do with my success!”

 

“You ungrateful little brat!”

 

Victor had no time to dodge as Mariya's glass came flying through the air towards him, it hit him in the forehead, smashing apart and drenching him in alcohol. He winced, his eyes stinging and pain burning in his forehead. He leaned against the counter, reaching up to press at his forehead where several shards of glass had stuck. Blood poured down his face and he stood there, bent over and gasping as shock numbed the pain. Mariya let out a sob and covered her mouth with one shaking hand, tears streamed down her cheek and her voice shook; “Now look what you made me do! You stupid, selfish child.” Her breath hitched and she stared at the blood staining Victor's hands and shirt.

 

Victor gazed numbly at his hands, the crimson seeming eerily vivid against the pale tone of his skin. It was a familiar sensation, the sting of the cuts in his skin, the red rolling down the expanse of vulnerable flesh of his inner wrist, dripping slowly over the faint, jagged silver scar. Victor made a strange, strangled gasping sound and slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent another from escaping. He turned his back on his mother and fumbled with the tap as he tried to wash away the stain and the awful, suffocating feeling the vision of the blood had been. Water turned pink as he ran his hands beneath the freezing deluge. He didn't hear the door from the bedroom slam open nor did he hear Yuri rushing to his side as he asked panicked questions about what had happened. He felt it happen, aware of it even after not having gone through it in years. He felt himself detach, felt it when his mind decided he couldn't handle what was happening. The pain faded in his forehead, the feel of blood on his cheek and running into his eyes was distant, a sensation like a vague itch instead of an immediate concern. His hands still shook as he held them under the tap, barely aware of Yuri tugging on his arms, trying to get him turn and look at him so he could see the damage. Yuri's voice was distorted, as if he was talking to him from a long way away. Victor gave into the feeling, like a familiar, comforting blanket and knew that in the morning he wouldn't remember.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh yes, more angst! The joys of filtering your own emotions onto fictional characters. I do hope this story is still ok, I'm doing so much research for this it's ridiculous but even then I'm sure there's loads of mistakes. I've been gaslit plenty of times so I know what that feels like but my experiences have been with partners and not parents so I honestly don't know if this is accurate or if I'm effectively pulling stuff from my ass. If I am, sorry. I am trying to make it as realistic as possible (and probably failing). Anyway, enough of my rambles, please enjoy this chapter.
> 
> PSA: Head wounds bleed a hell of a lot even if they're only shallow so just because there's a lot of blood, may not mean you need stitches. However, that said, DO NOT AVOID THE HOSPITAL IF THE CUT IS DEEP! THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION; IF YOU HAVE A HEAD WOUND GET IT LOOKED AT FOR GODS SAKE!

Yuri panicked. When he had heard the sound of glass breaking he had run out into the open plan living room and seen Mariya with her back to him, standing before Victor who was at the sink with the cold water running. He ran straight to his fiancé, taking the top of his arm gently to try to turn him. He felt the sharp sting in the bottom of his foot as he stepped on broken glass but ignored it. Victor had blood pouring from his head, into his eyes and over his hands as he had attempted to stem the flow. Yuri felt his heart leap into his throat, his stomach twisted in fear. “V-Victor?! Victor?” He tried to get his boyfriend's attention but he seemed incapable of seeing anything but the blood on his hands as he held them for too long under the water. Yuri finally managed to squeeze between Victor and the sink to turn off the water, he got a good look into his boyfriend's face and saw that he was staring blindly at his own wrists. Yuri took them in his hands gently and held them, looking up into Victor's dazed eyes. “Victor, come and sit down. I will call an ambulance.”

 

Victor allowed himself to be guided to the sofa, both of them ignoring his mother as they sat down and Yuri got out his phone. However, before he could start to dial Victor's hand stopped his, he shook his head slowly and then winced. “No.” He whispered in a harsh voice, his eyes drifting away from Yuri's so he was staring at the TV. Makkachin whined at him from the floor and when Victor held out his hand the dog ran over to sniff and lick his palm.

 

“But Victor, we need to get your head looked at.”

 

“I can do it. Head wounds always look far worse than they actually are.” He muttered in that same eerily flat tone as he continued stroking Makkachin. “I'll be alright.”

 

Yuri sighed and stowed his phone away, “Fine. At least let me get the first aid kit and check it myself?”

 

Victor nodded and Yuri stood to go back into the kitchen, he winced as his foot came down on another piece of glass and he lifted it up to see a shard dug into the skin. He sighed and pulled it out, stepping more carefully as he got the first aid kit down from a cupboard. When he returned to Victor's side he held the open box on his lap and found the stuff he would need, Victor reeked of Vodka now as it had soaked into his hair and shirt. It mixed with the blood on his face, staining it pink. So Yuri set to cleaning the wounds to see if any small pieces of glass had lodged themselves into the skin. He worked slowly, pausing every time Victor made any sound to indicate it hurt. When the worst of the blood was gone Yuri could see one particularly deep, jagged cut just under Victor's hair line. He pushed his hair out of the way and gently worked out a large piece of glass before gently cleaning it. “You might need stitches on this Victor.” He muttered, but Victor shook his head again. Yuri sighed heavily and made do with pressing a dressing pad to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Here, hold this to your head a minute. I've got to clean up the mess in the kitchen.”

 

“...Yuri?”

 

Yuri rose and looked back at Victor who was still staring at Makkachin, “Yes?”

 

“You're bleeding too?”

 

“Oh...yes, I'll be ok. It was just a small cut.” Yuri smiled but Victor wasn't looking at him.

 

Finally the bleeding stopped enough for Yuri to put a bandage on the wound, when he was done he kissed Victor's cheek and told him to take a shower and go to bed. When he had made sure Victor was settled, Yuri went out to put the broken glass in some newspaper and into the bin. He found Victor's mother sitting at the counter and smoking, pouring herself yet another glass of booze. “It's late, shouldn't you go to bed?” He asked stiffly, trying to be polite but he was tired and too angry to confront the woman now. He knew he had to wait until he was calmer or it would all blow up and the last thing Victor needed was to have his mother and fiancé arguing loudly while he was trying to rest.

 

Mariya was silent, seeming to refuse to acknowledge Yuri as he tried to tidy the kitchen up. Just as he was picking up the last of the glass though she spoke; “Was it you?”

 

“Was what me?” Yuri replied, having trouble keeping his voice steady.

 

“Who told him to kick me out.”

 

Yuri sighed, he was exhausted and still a little tipsy, he didn't need to be having this conversation right now. “Not recently, no.” He replied stiffly, hoping to put an end to it.

 

“Then it must have been that other one...The gay one...”

 

“Gay one?” Yuri shook his head, “Chris?”

“Yes, him. I knew he was a bad influence on Vitya. Did you know that they've slept together?”

 

“No but Victor's past relationships have nothing to do with me.” Yuri replied, rubbing tiredly at his eyes and stifling a yawn. “I've been trying very hard to be nice, Ms. Nikiforov but after tonight I can't hold back any more; I think it would be best for everyone if you leave and never come back. That was what this was all about wasn't it? Victor asked you to leave. I think you need to go, you've overstayed your welcome.” Yuri's hands curled into fists and he stood straight as he met Mariya's hard eyes. “I don't know what you did to Victor as a child but I do know that you're bad for him. We've got a competition coming up and Victor's already under a lot of pressure with his own programmes on top of coaching me. We would both like it if you packed your bags and got the earliest train out of here.” Yuri felt nerves fluttering in his belly but they were easily ignored for once, seeing Victor looking so broken and bleeding everywhere had been the final straw. He wouldn't allow anyone, especially this woman, hurt his fiancé any more.

 

Mariya stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray, eyes on the ash as she pushed herself up from her seat. “You think I did this?” She asked, looking up at Yuri. “I would never hurt Vitya, he's my son. He obviously hasn't told you the truth, has he?” Her lips curled into a humourless smirk and she laughed softly to herself, “Of course not. He was always very secretive, even as a child. Vitya has a lot of issues, after his brother died he tried to kill himself-”

 

“Yes, you told me.” Yuri stiffened, he didn't want to hear what she said next. He knew it would be poison, he knew it might hurt Victor and him but he couldn't move his legs as she slid around the counter and walked up to stand before him. She reached out and tilted his head up so they were looking at each other.

 

“He was admitted into a psychiatric facility for a year afterwards. He was inconsolable, he would go into fits of violence in which he would seriously injure himself. You must have seen the scars? They were all self-inflicted, Mr. Katsuki. He was so convinced that it was I who was hurting him that he wouldn't allow me near him. He threatened to move in with his coach and his wife. Finally I couldn't take it any more, having to sit by and watch my own beloved son damage himself like that. So I had him admitted.” She smirked as she backed off, seemingly satisfied by the reaction. She picked up her things from the counter and bid Yuri a good night before she went to the spare room. Yuri took a breath, trying to process what she had said, if it was true then there may have been a chance that Victor had smashed the glass over his own head. But if it wasn't? That meant that somehow that woman had got away with abusing her own child for years and no one had even batted an eyelid. Either way it was a horrific thought. He grabbed himself a glass of water and some pills for the headache Victor was sure to have in the morning, before turning all the lights off and going to the bedroom.

 

Victor lay in bed, staring blindly up at the ceiling. He could hear Yuri and his mother speaking in hushed tones in the room beyond but he found he couldn't care much. He stared up at the ceiling and wished he could sleep, he wanted oblivion and the only way he was going to get that was if he fell asleep. However, it was out of his grasp. He rolled onto his side and pulled Yuri's pillow to his chest, burying his face in it and taking a deep breath. He could smell him on it; his saving grace. The boy who had shown him just how beautiful the light could be. Victor trembled, wishing he could forget what had happened but he knew he wouldn't until he had slept. He could still see his mother's furious expression, the way she had snarled at him with genuine hatred. Victor's fingers gripped the pillow with such force he could feel the fibres strain. He had always had a deep abiding fear of his mother and it had taken him years to realise that this wasn't normal. None of his friends had been scared of any of their parents, none of them were terrified when they raised their voices. When he had realised this he had started to actually notice how his mother would make everything good about her and blame everything bad on him, he had seen her many attempts to turn Andrei against him and recruit him in her life-long goal to punish Victor for being unable to meet her impossible standards. His memories were fuzzy but he had enough of them to realise that his mother had been abusive, and even if he hadn't been able to remember that he would always remember the way Yakov hated her. Yakov who was gruff and could sometimes be a bit cold but had a deep abiding love for all his students, like a grumpy old uncle. Even Georgi and Mila were family to Yakov and he had always been there to help ease their pain, no matter how silly sounding. He encouraged Georgi to skate out his feelings after Anya had broken up with him. He made sure that Mila was ok after she had dumped her ice hockey boyfriend, even though she had been the one to end the relationship. He had made sure that fans never got too creepy or too close, he had managed to reign in Victor's more self-destructive instincts whenever he could. When Yurio's own mother had a depressive episode he took the boy to his house, ensuring he was looked after when his grandfather was unable to do it. He was an uncle and father figure rolled into one and together they formed a mismatched, slightly crazy family. Yakov had his own issues, having been through a rather tumultuous divorce with Lilia that had ended a little bitterly. He still wore his wedding ring, indicating that he still had some feelings for her. Victor still felt a little guilty for running off to Japan when it was very likely that Yakov had needed him during his divorce, however, it had all turned out for the better and despite Yakov's harsh demeanour Victor knew he was happy he had found true love.

 

Victor sighed, eyes closing and shutting out the darkness of the bedroom. He still felt as if he was somehow separated from his own body, his feelings and thoughts were muted and muffled. The texture of the pillow wasn't helping and not even Makkachin had, despite the fact that in the past the dog had always been able to ground him. He was numb now, although his forehead still throbbed it was as if the pain was a memory. He heard the door open and opened his eyes enough to see Yuri enter the bedroom, the door shut quietly behind him and he tiptoed over to the bed and pulled back the duvet on his side before sliding in. Victor lay still as Yuri cautiously put his arm around him, he pretended to sleep because he couldn't bring himself to tell Yuri that even his touch felt unreal. His eyes closed again and he found himself slipping into darkness, he greeted it with open arms.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter but my granddad's funeral was on Friday and I've not really been in the mood for writing. However, now I'm back and hopefully I can get some more done soon! Enjoy my friends.
> 
> (Also, if you're ever interested you can find me on tumblr, under the same name) 
> 
> Sorry for the random italics, I can't seem to change it...

 

Something was wrong but he just couldn't figure out what.   
  
Victor stood in the doorway to the living/kitchen area and stared numbly at the scene before him. He wore a dark blue robe that fell open to expose his bare chest, his hair stuck up at all angles and his naked feet curled into the thick carpet. He had on a pair of sleep trousers that sat low on his hips, accentuating the deep 'v' that led to his groin. A smattering of silvery hair trailed down from his belly button and disappeared into the top of his pyjama bottoms. Peeking over the top of his waistband was a pale scar, as thin as a needle and barely visible.

 

Victor blinked, wondering if he was asleep as the smell of cooking wafted pleasantly on the air. This wasn't unusual in itself as Yuri sometimes rose before he did and made them both breakfast, which was why he had dragged himself from the cocoon of his bed linen to seek out the source of the tantalising scent. However Yuri was nowhere in sight, neither was Makkachin, now he thought about it. He looked around as a sound alerted him to someone else's presence. His mother was bustling around in the kitchen, the pan on the stove was sizzling and there was a scent that made Victor think of his brother. “Blini's?” He croaked, his voice low and full of confusion. His mother hadn't made pancakes for breakfast since he was five.

 

Mariya turned at the sound of his voice and offered him a large smile that made Victor's hairs stand on end. “I remembered that you used to love these when you were little. I also put some tea on, if you want some.”

Victor swallowed, glancing back over his shoulder as if expecting someone to leap out and shout 'surprise' and tell him it was all just a stupid joke to fuck with his head. “Mama?”

 

“Vitya, sit.” Mariya demanded and Victor's feet moved before his brain could fully engage. He sank slowly into a seat at the table and waited. He stared at the pretty little blue tea pot, one he had inherited from his grandmother along with four matching tea plates and cups. The spout was steaming, obviously steeping. “Help yourself to some tea. If I remember you used to like jam with your blini, yes?”

 

Victor nodded, unable to properly form any words as Mariya swept over with one of his best dinner plates and set it before him. There was a sizeable amount of warm pancakes on there, folded into smart little triangles. She set down the knife and fork and Victor automatically picked them up, his hands shook a little as he started to cut the buckwheat pancakes up into small, bite-sized pieces. Mariya settled herself down opposite him and fixed him with an icy stare as he ate methodically, barely even tasting them. When he had finished he set aside his cutlery and stared down at his empty plate, his mind was full of fog, words hardly made any sense and he couldn't even think straight. “Where's...Where's Yuri?” He finally managed, not able to meet his mother's gaze.

 

“He went out with that dog.” Mariya replied, waving a dismissive hand. She picked up her packet of cigarettes and put one between her lips, she lifted her lighter and inhaled. Victor watched her from the corner of his eye, his fingers turning white as he clutched at the edge of the table in an attempt to ground himself. “How do you feel, Vitya?” She asked, breathing smoke into the air. Victor licked his lips, feeling how dry they were as he tried not to give away his discomfort. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

 

Victor closed his eyes, a small frown on his face, “I...I don't know.” He said finally.

 

“Well,” Mariya sighed heavily, “Yesterday you hurt yourself again.”

 

Victor shook his head, finally looking up to meet his mother's eyes, “No. I didn't. I haven't done that since-”

 

“Since you left Russia, I know.” Mariya gave him what should have been a concerned look but set Victor's teeth on edge. “I think that perhaps the stress is getting to you. You haven't competed in over a year, Vitya.”

 

Victor licked his lips again, frowning, “Mama-”

 

“I know it's hard to take in but I really think you should consider how detrimental the amount of work you're doing is to your health. You've always been fragile, Vitya. You're coaching as well as competing, perhaps it's too much.”

 

Victor lifted a hand and touched his forehead, beneath the pads of his fingers he could feel the bandage. He remembered a flash of Yuri's face, white with concern and then the sound of someone shouting. Victor dropped his hand to the table with a thud, eyes snapping shut and both hands flying to his hair as he bent double in his seat. “D-Did...Did I hurt him?” He rasped finally, his breathing heavy and thick in his lungs, his ears ringing faintly as he struggled to remember exactly what had happened.

 

“Who?” Mariya seemed confused.

 

“Yuri. Did I...Did I hurt Yuri?”

Mariya fell silent, Victor's heart froze in his chest with terror before his mother finally broke the silence. “No. He cut his foot on some glass when he ran into the kitchen to make sure you were OK.” She admitted, her tone of voice suggested she was disappointed.

 

Victor let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Does he know?” He asked next, eyes flicking up to look at his mother.

 

“I had to tell him, Vitya.”

 

Victor nodded but remained silent as he rose from his seat, “I'm going back to bed.” He said quietly and retreated to the bedroom.

 

Yuri sat at the small, round table outside the quaint little coffee shop. He still wore his running gear and Makkachin sat curled up at his feet. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, the man opposite him finally set aside his paper and looked Yuri in the eyes. “What is this about?” Yakov grumbled, irritated at having been forced out of his house at an ungodly hour by his prized students fiancé.

 

“I wanted to talk about Victor.” Yuri muttered, turning a little pink around the ears but with a determined frown on his face.

 

Yakov drummed his short fingers against the table top before grunting, “Fine. What is it you wish to know?”

 

“Well...” Yuri hesitated, he hated going behind Victor's back about this but he was also too afraid to confront him in case it hurt him. He had to know though, so he sucked it up. “His mother told me that he used to hurt himself.” He started quietly, staring down at his hands as they twisted against the table. “You see...Victor got hurt last night. I heard loud voices and then a crash...when I ran into the living room I saw Victor by the sink with blood pouring down his f-face and t-there was glass everywhere. Ms. Nikiforov told me Victor had done it to himself but I-I...I'm not so sure.” He swallowed and looked pleadingly up at Yakov who was watching him with stern patience.

 

After a moment Yakov rubbed at his stubble-laden chin and sighed, “Does Vitya know you're here?” He asked and when Yuri shook his head guiltily Yakov simply nodded. “He would not tell you this himself anyway.” He sighed again and frowned as he took a long drink of coffee before starting again, “I first met Vitya when he was a child, I saw him at the rink with his older brother and immediately saw that he had talent. I invited him to take part in some classes and he seemed so excited. He went to them diligently but I only ever saw him come with his brother, he grew as a skater and eventually he decided he would take up figure skating. I became his coach.” Yakov had a small, nostalgic sort of smile on his face that Yuri had never seen before, it made him glad to know Victor had Yakov in his life. “The first day his mother came with him I knew she was trouble, she seemed to hate the idea of her son skating. She told me and him it was a sport for sissies and was unmanly. However, Vitya was determined. He loved the ice and he was so talented I refused to let him give it up, such a waste that would have been. His brother supported me in this and eventually his mother had no choice but to give up trying to prevent it. Victor was always a strange child, he was confident on the ice, as graceful as a swan and he charmed everyone at all his competitions. However, there were moments when he was obviously different. He would come to our sessions with strange bruises and seemed very far away, up until he stepped out onto the ice. He was always flighty, his attention skipping so rapidly I could not hope to keep up. He told me that at school he was getting bad grades and he was being bullied. He had few friends at that time. It was a sad thing as he was surprisingly charismatic for such a young boy. He already had that long hair and would plait it himself to keep it out of his way, he adored his hair.” He paused again and finished his espresso, frowning darkly. “It all changed dramatically when his brother died.” Yakov said gravely, his lined face becoming heavier as he set aside his cup and clasped his hands. “His brother was his entire world, he worshipped the ground he walked on. The day he died Vitya was broken. He came to the funeral at his mother's side, his hair tied up messily, his face all red from crying. His eyes...” Yakov shook his head sadly, “He looked as if he had been through Hell. His mother told me he had discovered the body but I guessed there was more to it than that. Victor refused to speak to anyone, even me. For weeks he was distant yet he continued to skate, I think that at that time it was the only way he could express himself. When he finally spoke to me he told me that his brother had died because of him, that he had been in a panic because Vitya had missed school. Andrei feared he had done something awful. Vitya blamed himself and his mother blamed him too. Not long afterwards Vitya tried to commit suicide.” At this Yakov's face paled and there was a tiny shake in his hands as he folded them on top of the table. “His mother had him sent to an institution, despite my insistences that it would only make him worse. I was correct. The few times I managed to visit him he was heavily sedated, you see, he had a tendency to try to harm himself. The doctor's thought it was guilt at his brother's death, I am inclined to believe them. A few months after his release he seemed back to his normal self, he got medal after medal and yet I noticed that he was still coming to practice with small injuries. Whenever I tried to question him about them he would fall silent before making up some obviously false excuse. I tried to confront his mother but she was vague and disinterested, I knew she didn't care. Then, one day, I walked in on him while he was changing before a competition...I saw some injuries on his back that would have been impossible to do himself.” Yakov looked Yuri in the eyes, making his stomach twist unpleasantly. “In my opinion, Yuri, I believe that although Victor hurt himself he was also being abused by his mother. Unfortunately I have never had any proof and because of Mariya's charisma and reputation no one believed me. I think Mariya took advantage of Victor's problems and hid her abuse in plain sight, why would anyone believe she was hurting her son when he was already known to hurt himself?” Yakov ended with a shaky sigh, he ran a hand over his face and looked into his empty mug. “My advice, Yuri, is to get rid of that woman. She needs to be as far away from Vitya as possible. When he went to Japan I was angry, yes, but I was also glad because he cut off all contact with his mother. It did him good. _You_ did him good.”

 

Yuri flushed at the obvious compliment, Yakov wasn't usually the type to throw them around casually. He dipped his head and pushed his glasses further up onto his nose. “Thank you.” He muttered quietly and caught Yakov give him a curt nod of acceptance before rising.

 

“I must go now, Yura has a lot of work to do before the competition.”

 

Yakov left Yuri to think about everything. Finally he paid for the coffee and called Makkachin to heal, he set off back home at a slow jog.

 

Victor woke to the sound of someone in the bedroom, his eyes flickered open and he rolled over to see Yuri sitting on the edge of the bed. “Yuri?”

 

“I'm here.” Yuri reached out and gently brushed hair from Victor's hazy eyes. Victor wrapped his fingers around Yuri's, he brought their hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to Yuri's ring. “Do you want something to eat?”

 

Victor shook his head and fell back against the pillows, “You must think I'm crazy.” He breathed, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his hand down his face.

 

“No. I don't.” Yuri shook his head earnestly. “Victor, you know I'm a mess. You know my anxiety can really mess me up. If you're crazy, so am I.”

 

Victor offered Yuri a wobbly smile. “Then we'll be crazy together, yes?”

Yuri brought Victor's hand to his own lips and pressed a kiss to his ring. “Together.” He said, returning Victor's smile. “We can help each other through this.”

 

Victor sighed, pulling Yuri down on top of him and finally kissing his lips. His hands slid down Yuri's sides to rest on his hips where he dug his fingers into the tightly muscled flesh. “Yuri...Yuri...” Victor muttered like a chant between kisses, a small frown creased his brow before he drew away to look up into eyes that sucked in his soul. “ _Y_ _a nye magu_ _zhit' byes tyebya._ ” Yuri pulled back a bit and blinked at Victor in mild confusion, Victor offered him a weak smile and ran the pad of his thumb over Yuri's cheek bone. “I can't live without you.” He breathed in translation.

 

Yuri flushed pink with embarrassment and pleasure at the heart-felt statement before burying his face in Victor's neck. “ _A_ _i s-shiteru yo_ _.”_

 

_Victor squirmed at the feeling of hot breath against the sensitive skin of his throat, he smiled and tried to pry Yuri off of him so he could see his face. “Was that a confession, Yuri?” He murmured, finally managing to get Yuri to look at him. “I've never heard you say it so blatantly before.”_

 

_Yuri was almost fluorescent now, he bit down on his bottom lip and squirmed uncomfortably, “I...I think you needed to hear it...b-but I couldn't s-say it in English. I-It's not meaningful enough...” Victor's face broke into a broad, beautiful smile and he drew Yuri into his chest again, allowing him to hide. Victor had spent some time learning how to say 'I love you' in Japanese specifically to say it to Yuri and he had, plenty of times. However, Yuri rarely said it. He was constantly showing Victor how he felt in numerous other ways, from holding hands, to exchanging rings outside a church in Barcelona. Victor had never thought he needed to hear Yuri say it but now, when he was feeling so confused and lost, now it made him warm in ways he hadn't been since his mother had first said his name since her arrival._

 

_“Thank you, Yuri.” Victor whispered, pouring all his emotion into his words. “Thank you.”_

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! It has been way too long and I am so, so sorry! I hope you can forgive me...I'm not very punctual and have no update schedule. Probably the most disorganised author on this site tbh. Anyway, I hope this chapter can make up for my absence and you can forgive me. It's a bit of a roller coaster but we are slowly drawing towards the conclusion of this tale. 
> 
> Lyrics to Yuri's surprise programme are from John Legend's 'All of Me' because it's such a beautiful song I couldn't help put the lyrics in. I'm sorry, it's probably cheating. :/ None the less, please enjoy what I have written.

_The rink was dark, shadowy figures moved just out of reach of the light which surrounded Victor. He stood in the centre of the circle of ice, illuminated by a spotlight. He was dressed in white, feathers adorning his shoulders and his golden blades flashing beneath his feet. He danced as if his life depended on it,moving with every ounce of elegance he possessed. Sweat beaded his forehead and he was unnaturally winded as he tried to get enough speed to perform a triple axle. His feet left the ice but as he touched down his feet slipped from beneath him. He fell with a crash, his arms unable to catch his weight as he smashed his forehead into the glassy surface. Blood dribbled from a nasty, jagged cut just beneath his hair-line and he found himself staring down into his own reflection as the ice became a mirror. Around him the crowd began to boo and cat-call. He heard the announcers laughing, they called him old. Too old. Too slow. Not strong enough. As he started at his reflection it began to morph, his hair turned from silver to grey and began to fall out in chunks. He ran one hand through it and came away with a handful of brittle strands. It was like straw to touch, breaking easily as he crushed it in his hands. Terror filled his heart which seemed to be struggling inside his chest, the audiences laughter was too loud in his ears as he watched his face grow wrinkled. His gums started to recede, his head now bald on top. His teeth rotted and fell away until he was left with yellowed gums. Liver spots started to cover his now wrinkled hands, his fingers stiffening and curling inwards grotesquely._

 

 _Victor forced his eyes away from the monster he had become and looked frantically up as the shadows engulfed him. He screamed, heart stuttering in his chest like a bird trapped in a cage. He fell back onto his hands as a figure moved towards him from the shadows. Victor was frozen to the spot, lying sprawled on the ice, his joints aching painfully and impeding his movement. Above him the figure halted, the shadows fled from a face he knew too well._ _“_ _A-Andreika..._ _”_ _He breathed, his voice rusty and unused._

 

_The figure smiled, lowering himself to one knee with a smile. Andrei's face was white, his lips tinged blue and his eyes glazed. He said nothing, only lifted his arm and pointed directly at Victor's chest. His heart jolted, agony flashed down his arm and then went numb. He gasped, eyes widening as he clutched at his chest with agony flaring throughout his body he wheezed out something that should have been a scream..._

 

Yuri's eyes snapped open as Victor's arm shot out and grabbed at his chest where Yuri's head lay. Yuri lifted himself up and looked down into Victor's contorted face. Panic made him reach out and grab Victor's hand in his own, making soothing sounds until Victor's eyes fluttered and slowly opened. He was breathing hard, lips parted and eyes unfocused as he tried to work his way out of the final dregs of his nightmare. Victor mumbled a name, turning to Yuri as tears filled his eyes, slowly spilling over to trickle down his cheeks. It took Yuri a moment to realise he was saying his brothers name. “Hush Victor, it was a nightmare.” Yuri whispered gently, lifting his lovers hand to his lips and leaving a kiss on his knuckles. “It's me, Yuri. Your Yuri.”

 

“Y-Yuri?” Victor asked wetly, sniffing and blinking away his tears. Yuri couldn't help but feel amazed once again by his beauty, even while he was crying. Yuri knew by now not to bring it up even as he brushed away some of the tears on Victor's pink cheeks. “Oh Yuri...” Victor took a shaky breath and closed his eyes, pulling Yuri to his chest again. Victor's skin was cool and he was sweating, he shuddered but Yuri's warmth was an immense comfort. They lay in each others arms for a while before Victor spoke again, his lips buried in Yuri's hair. “I was...old. Too old. My hair was falling out and...and everyone was laughing. I couldn't land my jumps and they all laughed. My brother...he-he was there, he was there but he was pale a-and his lips were blue...I...I was so afraid, Yuri. So afraid.” Victor's hands shook as he ran them through Yuri's hair, kissing the paths they took and letting his tears land like diamond drops in the thick strands. “I died, Yuri. I died on the ice...”

 

“It was a nightmare, Victor. Just a silly nightmare.” Yuri replied, lifting his head to take Victor's face in his hands. “You're not old. You're still the most handsome, talented man on the ice.” He assured him, causing Victor to smile weakly.

 

After a moment Victor spoke again, his voice still a little damp sounding but he seemed to be recovering. “I think...I think perhaps Mama is right.” He breathed, closing his eyes tightly as the idea of giving up his career made his chest feel tight and uncomfortable. “Maybe it is time I retired. I...I am too old.”

 

“Victor!” Yuri frowned at him, “You're wrong and she is wrong.” He said emphatically, moving so he was straddling his fiancé and looking down into his face. “I've seen you during practice, you're still capable of winning more medals. You've got more talent in one little finger than I have in my entire body. If you give up now, just before a competition, you'll be disappointing all of your fans and everyone who loves you. If you give up now then so will I because I cannot imagine going through another season where I don't get to skate on the same ice as you as your equal! Please, Victor, don't give up!”

 

Victor couldn't help but smile at that, it wasn't his usual heart-shaped smile but it was close enough to make Yuri return it. “Ok, Yuri. For you, I will keep competing.”

 

“Not just for me, Victor. You can't deny how much you love it too.” Yuri leaned down, pressing a line of delicate little kisses down Victor's throat towards the dip where his chest began. “You love the thrill of landing a perfect quad, you love standing on that podium with everyone's eyes on you. You love making everyone stare and gossip. You love beating everyone, holding that gold in your hand as everyone cheers your name.” Yuri had moved down to his abs now, teasing him with the tip of his tongue in the dips between his muscles. He felt Victor tensing beneath him, smirking to himself as he heard his breath stutter. Already the nightmare was turning to dust in the face of Yuri's talented mouth. “But most of all...” Yuri punctuated this sentence with a sharp nip on Victor's hip bone as his hands slid up Victor's legs to his hips. “You love surprising everyone. You can surprise everyone, even now, because you can show everyone that you're not too old. You can show the world that Victor Nikiforov will never, ever die.”

 

Victor moaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes closing as Yuri's tongue slid slowly down his rapidly hardening erection. His hands fell to Yuri's hair, tangling in the strands as he tried to thrust up towards the teasing heat of his lovers mouth. “Y-Yuuuuriiiii...” He whined impatiently, hearing the soft giggle before he was finally rewarded with hot, wet suction just where he needed it most.

 

_XXX_

 

“GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSS!”

 

Victor pulled away reluctantly from a giggling Yuri and turned to see Yurio sliding past on his skates, a grumpy frown on his face and his hands cupped around his lips. Yuri's hands pressed against Victor's chest and he couldn't help but laugh as Yurio made loud, overly dramatic retching sounds. Somewhere to their right Yakov's voice rose above the inane chatter of other skaters as he shouted at Georgi to get his act together. Mila was gossiping with a blond woman who was leaning over the boards with a delighted gleam in her eyes while a group of ice dancer's were practising nearby.

 

“Get a fucking room you two!”

 

“We have-”

 

“NOT. HERE. ASSHOLES!” Yurio's voice growled, cutting off Victor's retort.

 

Victor slid one hand beneath Yuri's very tight and very distracting top, a smirk on his face as he looked down at his lover. “Ah, it seems that our displays of affection are unwanted here...perhaps we should cut this short and return home, hmm?”

 

“Not on my watch, Vitya!” Yakov growled from nearby, causing Yuri to squeak and push Victor away from him in embarrassment. “Get your puny ass out on the ice.”

 

Victor pouted but did as Yakov said, giving Yuri one last heated look. Yuri smiled as he went and found a clear space to start his routine. The ice cleared as people slid to the boards to watch.

 

Victor ended his routine and looked to Yakov who wore a very rare smile, it expressed pride and there was a glint in his eye that Yuri had only ever seen when he was talking about Victor. Yuri smiled as Victor slid over to them and cocked his head, “So?” He asked Yakov curiously.

 

Yakov frowned, clearing his throat. “A gold medal routine, Vitya.” He said and strode off, causing Victor to grin affectionately. However Yakov paused, looking back with a more severe frown; “If you mess this up by spending more time in bed with your little lover, I will kill you myself.”

 

Victor's grin widened, eclipsing the sun. “Wouldn't dream of it, Yakov!” He sang happily, causing Yakov to growl in irritation.

 

And then it was Yuri's turn, he slid to the centre of the rink as everyone hushed. Even Yurio's constant cursing faded when Yuri took his starting position. Victor turned to the music and hit play, the tinkling sound of a piano filled the rink and Victor turned to watch. It was a routine Yuri had been keeping secret from Victor, although he refused to say why. When the lyrics began Yuri started to move, his movements fluid, his eyes slightly unfocussed.

 

 _What would I do without your smart mouth?_  
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out  
You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down  
What's going on in that beautiful mind  
I'm on your magical mystery ride  
And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright...

Victor's eyes widened, a smile widening his lips as Yuri danced for him and him alone. His step sequences were slow, as melodic as the music itself. Victor couldn't wait to see the entire thing, including the costume.

 _My head's under water_  
But I'm breathing fine  
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

 _'Cause all of me_  
Loves all of you  
Love your curves and all your edges  
All your perfect imperfections  
Give your all to me  
I'll give my all to you  
You're my end and my beginning  
Even when I lose I'm winning  
'Cause I give you all of me  
And you give me all of you, oh oh...

Yuri moved into an Ina Baur, head back to expose his throat. Victor gasped, hand over his mouth as he watched his fiancé move. He was entranced, as always, but somehow knowing that this particular routine was choreographed entirely for him made it somehow more special.

 _How many times do I have to tell you_  
Even when you're crying you're beautiful too  
The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood  
You're my downfall, you're my muse  
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues  
I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you

It was beautiful. Every movement was like liquid, it was impossible to tell if the music was coming from the player or Yuri himself. Victor felt tears in his eyes, Yurio groaned and made quiet retching sounds but it didn't matter. Nothing did, because Yuri was dancing for him. He was making music specially for Victor and it was all he ever needed.

 _My head's under water_  
But I'm breathing fine  
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

 _'Cause all of me_  
Loves all of you  
Love your curves and all your edges  
All your perfect imperfections  
Give your all to me  
I'll give my all to you  
You're my end and my beginning  
Even when I lose I'm winning  
'Cause I give you all of me  
And you give me all of you, oh oh

Yuri had picked the perfect song for them. It seemed to sum up everything about their slightly crazy relationship, it was soft, sweet and a little bit silly. The piano, the lyrics and most especially Yuri's evocative movements.

 

 _Give me all of you_  
Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts  
Risking it all, though it's hard

 _'Cause all of me_  
Loves all of you  
Love your curves and all your edges  
All your perfect imperfections  
Give your all to me  
I'll give my all to you  
You're my end and my beginning  
Even when I lose I'm winning  
'Cause I give you all of me  
And you give me all of you

_I give you all of me  
And you give me all of you, oh oh_

 

The song faded out and Yuri came to a stop, his chest heaving as he turned and looked at Victor uncertainly. Victor grinned and without thinking took off across the ice to reach his fiancé. They met in the middle in a crash of limbs. Yuri slipped and they toppled over, Victor landing hard on his back with a breathless laugh. “Oh Yuri, you're so wonderful!” He crowed, reaching up to push Yuri's hair back from his sweaty forehead. Yuri smiled down at him, cheeks flushed beautifully as they kissed right there in the middle of the rink and ignored Yurio's loud complaints.

 

XXX

 

It was early evening when Victor returned, he was alone as Yurio had cornered Yuri to sneak in a bit more practice behind Yakov's back. He opened the door, shifting a bag full of shopping from one hand to the other. He was in such a good mood he didn't even worry that his mother was still lingering like a bad smell. He hummed the tune to Yuri's programme, his lips curled up in a happy little smile as he closed the door with his hip and slipped off his shoes, kicking them in the general direction of the shoe rack. He hummed all the way to the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter. His socked foot came down on something hard and he winced as it dug into the sole, he looked down and saw a bottle cap. Slowly he bent to pick it up and found an empty bottle half-hidden beneath the counter. He picked it up with a sigh, barely pausing in his humming as he went to put the bottle in the recycling.

 

He put away the shopping and then finally turned his attention to the living room. He stopped then, eyes widening as he took in the sight. It was as if someone had held a party. Bottles scattered the floor, they were perched precariously on the coffee table. Ashtrays were overflowing and the place reeked like a bar. Victor spotted his mother's unconscious form stretched out on the sofa and he sighed, he moved as quietly as possible and began to tidy up. As he gathered enough trash to fill a black bag he heard a soft scratching and whining coming from the large store cupboard by his room, he cursed under his breath and went to free Makkachin from where his mother had obviously locked him. He knew she hated animals, especially dogs. Makkachin practically burst out of the door almost before Victor had it fully open, knocking Victor off his feet for the second time that day. He laughed as Makkachin began licking his face, whining as if he was telling him how awful it had been. The room stank of urine and Victor pushed his dog away from him after a good long cuddle. He rose and peered inside, wrinkling his nose at the unsavoury smell. Makka never peed in the house, he must have been trapped for a long time and Victor had been out all day after his mother had promised to take the dog out when he needed to go. “Come on then Makka, let's get this mess cleaned up.” He sighed and returned to the kitchen irritated by his mother's irresponsibility. As he was gathering the cleaning things he heard his mother groan from where she lay, he looked up as she sat up, one hand at her temple as she winced. “I have no sympathy for you, mama.” He said and got her attention. She fixed him with a hard squint.

 

“Vitya? When did you get home?” She grumbled.

 

“Half an hour ago.” Victor replied stiffly, Makkachin whining at his heels as he moved past the sofa to go clean up the mess.

 

“Where are you going? Get me some water.”

 

“Get it yourself, Makka peed in the closet thanks to you.”

 

“That stupid dog is your responsibility.”

 

“I left him in your care, Mama.” Victor found himself snapping, he had been in such a good mood.

 

“Don't use that tone with me, young man. I am your mother, show me some respect. I have a horrid headache, get me some medication and some water. The creature can wait.”

 

Victor's hands clenched at his sides and he rounded on her, “You are staying in my house, you cannot order me around. He is my dog and if I ever see you abusing him ever again I will kick you out.”

 

Mariya gasped, her eyes widening in shock. “You wouldn't dare, Vitya!” She replied as she stood up and moved shakily towards him. “That mutt is nothing but trouble, he's dangerous!” She declared triumphantly as Makkachin slid between them and started to growl.

 

Victor stared at his dog in shock, he had never heard Makka make such a terrifying sound before. The dog was baring his teeth at Victor's mother and his ears had flattened against his head as he stood before his master protectively. “Makka...” Victor said in wonderment.

 

Mariya was glaring at Makkachin, a sneer of disgust on her face. Her eyes moved to Victor. “You should have him put down, Vitya, he's going to be trouble. He's out of control...could even be rabid.”

 

“He's fine. He's just protecting me. Makkachin, down.” Victor ordered but for once in the old dogs life he totally ignored his command. The growls continued, low and menacing as Mariya advanced heedlessly. “Mama...Mama move back, he's never done this before.” Victor warned. “Makka, stop it!”

 

“It's your fault, Vitya, you never trained him properly. Stupid dog.” Mariya sneered.

 

Victor glared at his mother, a sudden, unbidden fury rising up in his chest. “He's not stupid! He's spent all day locked up with not even a single walk! Yuri and I have been out training and all you've done today is drink and make a mess of my house! I think, mother, it's really time you left. I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting on you like a servant, I'm tired of constantly putting up with your bitterness and nasty comments. I'm a grown man, I need my own space, my own life! I intend to marry Yuri after this season ends and nothing you say or do is ever going to change that. I love him, Mama...I love him more than I've ever loved anything in this world. It's time you accepted that I'm not going to be the perfect little doll you wanted me to be...I want you gone. Today. I will pack your bags myself if I have to.” Victor took a breath, suddenly feeling oddly weightless as his mother's mouth fell open in horror.

 

There was a moments silence so complete it was like it had become solid. Victor couldn't move, could barely breathe as he waited for her reaction. It came suddenly, so shocking Victor couldn't defend himself, her hand landed on his cheek so hard Victor was thrown sideways into the door frame, the cleaning products he was holding fell from his grip to scatter at his feet. He gasped in shock, one hand flying to his face where his cheek stung. He looked at his mother in time to hear the most terrifying sound as Makkachin launched himself at her, she fell backwards with a scream. Makkachin's jaws clamped down hard on her wrist, Makkachin's head shook violently from side to side and there was a sickening crack. Mariya screamed again, trying and failing to push the huge dog off of her. It took Victor a second too long to process what was happening before he grabbed Makkachin's collar and tried to heave him off of his mother.

 

Finally Makkachin heard Victor's voice and released Mariya who lay on the floor sobbing and cradling her bloodied wrist. Victor held Makkachin close, rocking slightly as the dog turned in his arms with a desperate whine and began licking at Victor's face. After a while Mariya finally dragged herself up off the floor, her entire body shaking violently as she stared at Victor. “I will be having that animal put down.” She hissed, rising to her feet unsteadily with tears flowing down her red cheeks. “If it is the last thing I do, Vitya, I will have it killed.” She sniffed. “Now, take me to the hospital.” She was white and shaking and could hardly stand, much of it was shock. Victor swallowed a lump in his throat and released his dog, he rose to his feet and stumbled out into the living room where he managed to pick up his keys. His mother followed him out the door and down the stairs. The ride to the hospital was done in complete silence, Victor's stomach churning as his mind tried to process the past hour. He could barely concentrate on the road as the sting in his cheek turned to warmth, every time he looked in the rear-view mirror he could see the firm print of a hand embedded in his skin. He tried to put all his energy into focussing on the road in case he threw up.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the long delay but real life and all that. This chapter is a bit fraught with angst and a brief flashback, just so you're warned. It's coming to a head now so it's all kicking off. Everything's going terribly! Lol. Don't worry, it will calm down a bit it's just coming towards the end so I had to ramp it up a bit. 
> 
> Please enjoy and forgive my long-winded rambles. I have flu so any mistakes are to blamed on that.

 

_The room was small, two beds sitting at opposite sides with little tables beside each. On the walls, above the bed on the left side were paintings and drawings that looked as if they were done by a very young child. Victor stared at them, seeing a house upon a hill with a smiling sun above it. A rainbow dribbled down the white page, staining it with colour. He sat on the bed, knees drawn to his chest and arms holding them tight as he stared through the curtain of his long hair. It was tangled, a mess of greasy strands falling over eyes that lacked their old sparkle. His knuckles were bruised, he had a few stitches holding a healing wound on his cheek closed. His eyes were unfocussed, his mind drifting on dreams of shadows and shouts of anger and pain. On his bed were two pairs of restraints, two for his wrists, two for his feet. The room still echoed with his own screams, his face still sticky with tears. The sedatives had worn off but he was still listless, barely responding whenever his room mate tried to get his attention. The other boy had long since given up and was now likely in the common room, playing cards. Victor didn't know his name, he had no desire to know it. He didn't deserve friends, friends were for people who didn't cause their brother's death. Love and life were for those who weren't bogged down with the sins that sat heavily upon his shoulders. Victor had decided long ago that he would never love again, he would never risk putting someone else in the same situation as his brother. It was better that way. It was safer. He locked away his heart and threw away the key._

 

_Listless and alone, Victor endured his mother's sparse visits. He sat in a chair and stared out of the window, legs curled up beneath him and his forehead resting against the cool glass. Idly he traced patterns through the fog of his breath as he watched the snow fall, his heart beat slowly, as sluggish as his drugged thoughts. He felt like one of those fat, white snowflakes; adrift on a current not of his own making. Alone but surrounded by others. He wanted his mother to leave but she didn't. She stayed for her allotted time, talking to him in a never ending stream of hissing, nasty little whispers interspersed with loudly proclaiming her love for him. When she left Victor closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief._

 

_His next visitor came and took a moment to simply stare. Victor didn't, at first, acknowledge him. He gazed out at the gardens of the facility and watched the snow pile up around the bushes. He now had a grey blanket wrapped around his unnaturally thin shoulders, somehow, Yakov thought he looked diminished. This child, so full of beauty and light, was now a wasted shadow of himself. Dark circles surround his eyes that were like shuttered windows, hiding the delicate soul within. When Yakov sighed Victor slowly turned his head, hair sliding away from his pale face. He took a moment to simply stare at his coach, as if considering if he was real or merely an illusion. When he suddenly stood, throwing the blanket off of his shoulders and stumbled into Yakov's broad chest. Yakov froze, unused to such intimate contact from a student. Victor wrapped his stick-like arms around him and gave voice to a devastating sob. It shook something within Yakov, something he had thought was solid. Hesitantly he lifted his own arms and pulled the shivering boy closer. “Y-Yakov...help me. Please...”_

 

Victor's foot came down hard on the break. The car lurched abruptly, jolting his mother forward and forcing her to brace herself against the dash. She gasped, staring wide eyed at the road ahead before turning a dark frown on Victor. “What are you doing, stupid boy? You could have killed us!”

Victor stared blindly ahead, lips parted a little and his face deathly pale. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The memories had come to him suddenly, they were so vivid that he had almost believed he had been reliving it. His chest hurt, his breathing laboured and his heart thundered against his ribs like a drum. It took him a few moments to realise that fat, crystalline tears were rolling steadily down his cheeks as he sat in the car and hyperventilated.

 

“Vitya?”

 

His mother's voice was weirdly muffled, as if coming to him from a distance. Only his panicked heartbeat felt real as his entire body tingled unpleasantly.

 

“Vitya? Talk to me! I need to get to the hospital!”

 

Victor shuddered, eyes snapping shut as another memory, this one far more recent, forced itself passed the barriers of his mind. He felt the agony of the glass slicing through the skin on his forehead, he felt the remaining liquid burn his eyes...

 

“VITYA! LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!”

 

The slap was hard and unexpected, forcing Victor's head to snap around to the side. His pulse beat erratically inside his head, a thundering so loud it almost drowned out his mother's accusing shouts. Fingers snatched at his hair, yanking his head to the side and forcing him to focus on the woman in the seat beside him. Her face was red with fury, eyes narrowed in a look Victor knew all too well. He was unable to react before she slammed his head into the steering wheel, it stunned him long enough for her to do it again. She screamed his name repeatedly, telling him she could be dying, that it would be all his fault if she did. Something inside Victor snapped. His hands grabbed for the drivers side door, fingers numb and fumbling as he struggled to open it. His mother still had a firm grip on his hair, sending agony lancing through his scalp in a way that was terrifyingly familiar. His other hands released the wheel in a weird, jerky spasm. He dropped it to his side and unlocked the seat belt just as the door swung open into the very busy road. Victor used the last of his waning strength to pull himself from Mariya's grip and found himself falling into the street and out of his car. He rolled and climbed unsteadily to his feet, swaying as cars blared their horns at him. It was dusk now and lights from oncoming traffic blinded him as a few cars hit their breaks, the sound like screaming, as they tried to avoid hitting him. Victor's arms rose to protect his aching eyes and he turned, running in a random direction as he tried to flee his mother's fury.

 

He ran for an indeterminate amount of time, the road giving way to grass and trees. When Victor finally had the courage to stop he found himself standing in a vaguely familiar park, he stopped beneath the wavering light of a street lamp and spotted an appropriate bench. He stumbled over to it and sank down, the cold of the wood seeping through the thin wool of his trousers. He shivered, his thin coat not enough to keep out the bitter wind that had begun to blow. Around him car horns blared, voices drifted on the wind and yet all around him was quiet and still. Slowly his heart slowed, his hands began to shake as he recovered from whatever had happened in the car. He wrapped both arms around himself in a vain attempt to stave off the cold. Shivering and teeth chattering from shock, Victor rummaged in his front pocket and managed to rip his phone free. He held it in one numb hand, staring down at the brightly lit screen, he had to do something but he couldn't remember what. There was something important, something he had been doing but his mind was mired in fog. He leaned forward, one hand pushing into his hair. He closed his eyes tightly and felt his entire body tremble. Something had happened, there was a spot on his head that ached in an eerily familiar way, his cheek bone felt bruised and his eye was slowly swelling. Something had happened...there was screaming...someone telling him he was stupid...

Abruptly the phone in Victor's hand started to vibrate. He jerked upright, a gasp escaping his lips as the phone slipped from his numb fingers and landed on the concrete. Victor bent and scooped it up, holding it and squinting at the name; Yakov Feltsman. Victor hit the little green phone on the screen and slowly lifted it to his ear. Immediately a rough voice started berating him. Victor felt something in his throat close over, he closed his eyes and shuddered, sinking lower in the seat as his body ached and shook. “Y-Yakov...help me...please...”

 

Yuri stared at his phone with a deep frown, he had tried to call Victor several times already and hadn't been able to get through. He had come home to an empty flat, the place looked as if it had been subject to an impromptu wrestling match and Makkachin had peed somewhere. Yuri chewed his bottom lip, anxiety sitting like a lump of lead in his stomach. He had tried distracting himself by cleaning but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So, Yuri decided to call the only other person who might know where Victor was. He swallowed nervously, hands sweating as he lifted the phone to his ear and pushed the fingers of his free hand deep into Makkachin's tight curls. The phone went straight to answer machine and Yuri was subjected to a robotic voice saying something in Russian. Yuri let out a breath, his anxiety tightening his gut. He tried another number, this time it rang three times before it was picked up.

 

“Yo, Fatso.”

 

“Yurio...” Yuri swallowed, ignoring the insult the teen threw at him. “Do you know where Victor could be?”

 

Yurio hesitated a second, seeming to sense the worry in Yuri's voice. “No. I assumed he'd be with his nut-case mother.”

 

“She's...she's not here either. Yurio, I'm worried. There's no note a-and I came home to find Makkachin had peed somewhere, the flat was a state and...and it's not right. Something's wrong and Victor's not answering his phone.” Yuri closed his eyes tightly and Makkachin whined, nudging at his knee with his wet nose. “Do you know where he could be?”

 

“Shit. Stay where you are, I'm coming over.”

 

“W-wait! What about your-”

 

Yurio fell silent for a few seconds when Yuri cut himself off, biting his lip. “My parents?” Yurio muttered. “Doesn't matter, Pig, I'll come over.” He hung up without another word and Yuri stared down at his phone, wondering what that had been about and how any parent could allow their sixteen year old to walk the streets alone at night. He let out a breath, wishing he hadn't mentioned it before rising and starting to pace. Makkachin's dark eyes followed him back and forth across the now clean living room as Yuri bit at his nails.

 

Yakov finally found Victor sitting forlornly on a bench in the park. His hair was a mess, a halo of silver floating around a face as white as a sheet. He was shivering, staring up at the stars as if trying to distract himself. Yakov took a shaky breath and moved closer, his heavy boots hitting the concrete path and alerting Victor to his presence. Victor looked up, recognition dawning slowly in his eyes, when he finally realised who it was he was on his feet and throwing himself at his coach with enough force to send him back a step. “Yakov. Yakov....Mama...she...she's angry. She's so, so angry.”

 

“Vitya.” Yakov sighed and wrestled his way out of his students death grip, holding him firmly by the shoulders and glaring into his distraught face. “Vitya, look at me.” His firm tone forced Victor's glazed eyes to focus on him, so used to taking his instruction that he did it without thought. “Now, come with me back to the car and you can explain when we're in the warm.”

 

Victor nodded, a jerky, horrible movement that was far removed from his usual grace. He followed Yakov down the path towards the road where Yakov's old red LADA. It was a boxy thing with cool leather seats that creaked as Victor slid into the passenger side. The interior was cream and had Victor wondering what Yakov had been like when the car had been new, back in the 70's. He ran a shaking hand over the immaculate dash as Yakov heaved himself into the drivers side and slammed the door closed. Victor jumped, eyes going wide and pupils dilating in sudden fear. Yakov turned to look at his student as he relaxed a little with a soft exhalation. Victor dropped his head forward and into his hands as Yakov started the engine without a word, the car shuddered a little before slowly moving forward.

 

“I left my car.” Victor whispered hoarsely, calm enough now that he had Yakov's steadying presence at his side. “I left...I left her there...I ran away.” Victor's voice shook as he bared his fragility to Yakov as he did no one else. Yakov grunted, shooting his student a look as he drove along a dark, quiet road.

 

“Where?” He asked after a moment, Victor told him and he headed that way. “What were you doing there, Vitya?”

 

“I...I was...” Victor's voice trailed off, one hand going to his lips as he tried to wrack his memory. “...A doctor? Yes. Mother needed a doctor because Makka bit her.”

 

Yakov snorted, “That stupid dog of yours wouldn't know how to bite.”

 

Victor shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on some unidentifiable point in the distance. “He bit mama. She hit me.” His voice was small, as if he had regressed back to that terrified child trapped in the psychiatric ward.

 

“I see.” Yakov's perpetual frown deepened as he considered this information, “And Yuri? What of Yuri?”

 

Victor didn't reply immediately, a small, confused frown creasing his bruised face. “Yuri...? Y-Yuri! Oh god, Yakov, he's probably back home by now!” Victor fished out his phone but it had run out of battery, “He's going to be so worried.”

 

“Well, he's waited this long, he will wait a while longer. I'm going to take you to the hospital and get the doctors to take a look at you, make sure you haven't hurt yourself.”

 

“No, no...I'm fine Yakov. I'm tired...I just...I want to go home.” Victor fixed Yakov with his big, blue eyes but this time Yakov wasn't going to weaken. He could see the beginnings of the bruises on Victor's face, the way his eye was swelling. He knew the woman had hurt him somehow, even if Victor couldn't remember.

 

“Vitya.” Yakov growled and Victor sighed in defeat.

 

Yurio didn't announce his arrival so much as scream it at the top of his lungs. He hammered on the door until Yuri opened it, then he slid inside and kicked the door shut without even looking at his host. Yuri eyed Yurio's trainers, old ones with worn soles, and Yurio finally kicked them off before going to the sofa and flinging himself down on it. “Hey, piggy, get me some food.” He demanded, glaring at Yuri as Makkachin clambered into his lap and tried desperately to lick him. Yurio fended the large dog off, cursing under his breath and Yuri couldn't help but smile a little. He went to get the boy some snacks and brought them over to the coffee table along with some tea, Yurio had turned on the TV in the meantime and seemed to make himself at home.

 

“Victor not contact you yet?” Yurio said after stuffing a few things into his mouth.

 

Yuri's fear came back like a tide, his hands clenched into fists where they rested on his knees and he looked away. “No.”

 

“He's a grown man, he will be fine.”

 

“Then why did you come over?”

 

Yurio arched a perfect blond brow at him, gazing down at Yuri where he sat on the floor. “Free food, obviously.” he said after a moments contemplation, Yuri smiled to himself knowing that that wasn't entirely the truth.

 

“So, your parents don't mind you coming out late at night and staying round strange men's houses?” Yuri asked after a while, the silence was torture as his thoughts turned to Victor and his disappearance.

 

“Mother is...” Yurio hesitated, frowning at the TV before sighing, “She is sick. She barely even knows what I do or when I do it...I was raised by Grandpa mostly because she was too ill to look after me. It's not her fault, not really, she tries so hard but she gets very confused. I used to hate her, you know? I blamed her for everything, even shouted at her a lot but now...now I see that she could be a lot worse.” He gave Yuri a poignant look, “She could be Victor's mother.”

 

Yuri bit his bottom lip, “What's wrong with her?” He asked quietly, not expecting an answer or even expecting Yurio to start shouting at him.   
  
However, Yurio merely sighed, “She's schizophrenic.” He looked away from Yuri then, eyes lingering on the dark window. “So...I understand a bit...about Victor's mother. Mine never hurt me but my dad, he had enough and left when I was a baby. He couldn't cope. It made mother's condition worse and for a while she had to go to a special place where they could help her. She's ok now, she gets help but I still mostly live with grandpa if I'm in Moscow. I...I scare her when she gets really bad.” He looked away and Yuri knew not to mention it again. “It's why I can't understand why Victor's mother treats him like she does. She's not well either, I can see it...so can anyone with half a fucking brain.”

 

“Except Victor.” Yuri said quietly, frowning in mild frustration as he plucked absently at his sock.

 

“Ah, but he's only got a quarter brain.” Yurio grinned and Yuri found himself giggling a little.

 

It was nice, he suddenly realised, sitting with Yurio. He was no longer pacing and felt much calmer. He looked at the boy as he picked up his phone and started tapping at the screen, he had obviously been worried about Yuri and had come over to look out for him and make sure he didn't get worked up. Yuri smiled to himself, always amazed by Yurio's strange brand of kindness.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Augh! I'm sorry for the late updates! I'm a terrible author. I've just been swamped lately and...admittedly...been playing ff15 on my free evenings...*clears throat awkwardly* sorry. :/ This chapter is short and again, I'm sorry. I will update as soon as I have another chapter written.
> 
> Just a quick note: Mariya is totally losing her marbles now. She's an absolute mess. Also, there's a bit of physical violence, just so you're warned. (please note; Mariya does have NPD BUT she's also got a load of other shit going on and on top of that she's an alcoholic which quite obviously does not help).

Time ticked by slowly, Yurio dozed on the sofa while Yuri continued to check his phone at regular intervals. He tried not to let the panic settle in again but he couldn't help it when every time he looked down at his phone he saw zero messages from Victor. He had tried phoning him again but had failed to be connected. Yuri slumped against the sofa, tipping his head back with a heavy sigh.

 

“I can hear you worrying, piggy. Stop it. It's so loud.” Yurio mumbled sleepily and caused Yuri to smile softly to himself as the teenager shuffled to adjust his position. “He'll be back-” Yurio was cut off as the sound of keys in the door filled the apartment, he sat up and rubbed at his tired eyes. Yuri was on his feet in seconds, almost running to the door just as it opened.

 

“Vict-” Yuri froze, finding himself face to face with Mariya. His mouth went dry and he swallowed as he took in her appearance. Her hair was falling out of it's severe bun, her make-up smudged by tears and her cheeks flushed. She looked awful. “...Ms Nikiforov...” Yuri's voice trailed off as the woman sneered at him and strode into the living room, her gait unsteady as she dragged the powerful smell of alcohol with her.

 

“You! Plisetsky!” She demanded in slurred Russian, causing Yurio to look up at her with wide green eyes. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I invited him.” Yuri said abruptly before Yurio could answer with some horrible curse. He recognised enough Russian by now to know that sentence, even if he replied in English. Yurio's eyes slid in his direction warily. “Yurio, it's ok now, you can go home-”

 

“Why did you invite another man here? You are supposed to be marrying my son!” Mariya's voice rose in volume and Yurio winced.

 

“What? He's a friend...and only sixteen-”

 

“I see what this is!” Mariya crowed triumphantly, her mean eyes glittering in joy. “Oh when Vitya finds out he's going to be devastated! Now he will see how right I am in saying he should marry a woman and not some foreign whore.” She spat the word in Yuri's direction, causing him to wince and avert his eyes.

 

“I-I think you've had enough...m-maybe you should go to bed now...”

 

“Ha! I do not take orders from a man who will sleep around behind my son's back!”

 

“Ew! Gross!” Yurio leapt to his feet, his face twisted in utter disgust as his sleepy brain finally caught up with what Mariya was accusing them of. “I will die before ever touching that fat pig!” He insisted furiously, his own voice rising to match Mariya's as he jabbed a forceful finger in Yuri's direction.

 

“Hey.” Yuri frowned a little, he understood what Yurio meant but the word choice kind of stung. However, they both ignored him.

 

“H-he's...he's just...ugh...sick! Why would you even-I can't believe you think-!” Yurio seemed to have been rendered incoherent with horror, Yuri would have been amused if it hadn't been for the fact that Mariya was still watching him with a sneer. Yurio was blushing ferociously as he kicked at a cushion that had fallen to the floor. “If Victor finds out what you're accusing us of he will laugh.” He grumbled, finally seeming to have found his voice again. He was still unable to even meet Yuri's eyes, however, seemingly too humiliated at the idea of Mariya's accusation to dare it.

 

“Now I have everything I need to have you removed from Vitya's life for good!” Mariya turned her dark smirk on Yuri and stalked towards him, wobbling on her heels as she tramped dirt onto the clean carpet. Yuri almost winced, Victor would be horrified. Russian's, like the Japanese, always took their shoes off at the door. It seemed Mariya was too drunk to remember. He backed up, lifting his hands up, palms outward in a calming gesture. “Ms. Nikiforov...Yurio and I are friends, he's a child-”

 

“Oi, watch who you're calling a child, Pig!”

 

“He's a teenager, I have no interest in him in that way. He came over because I-I was worried about V-Victor-” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp as Mariya grabbed his face hard enough to bruise. She pulled him forward, causing him to stumble and glared down into his terrified face.

 

“Vitya is my son. You are not worthy to stand on the same earth as he is. Go home back to your barbaric little country and leave him alone. He is my son, do you hear me? Mine. He is a gold medallist, even an Olympic medallist, he is the pride of this country and it is all thanks to me. I made him what he is and then you came along and picked it all apart with your stupid feelings. You will never, ever compare to him. With you out of the way he can become even more and bring me even more prestige. He will marry a woman I choose, someone with equal prowess and have children with her. You cannot provide that. You are pathetic. Worthless. A loser...”

 

Yuri's hands dropped to his sides, a tiny tremble in them as he stared into Mariya's crazed eyes. She had well and truly lost it, something had happened to push her over the edge and she looked about ready to murder him. Her nails dug painfully into his face, his glasses were lopsided and his jaw was aching where her fingers pressed harshly into it.

 

“Hey, old woman!”

 

Yuri's eyes widened as Yurio stepped forward, arms folded across his chest and a look Yuri had never seen on his ethereal face. It was dark, his eyes narrowed in a bubbling fury Yuri had never even known to exist. “Go home, boy! This is between adults!” Mariya snapped angrily, barely even glancing away from Yuri.

 

“Fuck you. I'm not going anywhere until your stupid son comes home. You're the one who should leave, hag.”

 

“Excuse me?” Mariya's voice had dropped to a dangerous level, she turned narrowed eyes on Yurio and released Yuri's face, causing him to stumble back in relief. “What did you just say to me, young man?”

 

Yurio held his ground but Yuri saw his hands curl into fists at his sides, “Didn't you hear me, woman? Are you so old that you've gone deaf?” Yurio had switched to Russian, making sure that she understood every word. Yuri noted how his hands shook slightly. “Victor Nikiforov and his legend died the second he decided to flee to Japan to coach the pig! It wasn't him that got the gold at Barcelona! He wasn't the one who worked his ass off until he was sick nearly every night! He is no longer a world record holder and at his age he never will be again! I'm the best. It's me. I beat your fucking son. I beat you! I took away your stupid, worthless legacy-” Something hard hit him in the chest and caused him to stumble back a step, he blinked and turned his head to see Yuri standing before him protectively just as Mariya's fist connected with his jaw. Yuri crumpled a little from the force of the blow and a horrible, choking silence enveloped them all. Mariya looked utterly shocked that Yuri had thrown himself into harms way to protect Yurio. Yurio stood stock still, frozen to the spot by fear and amazement. His eyes were wide, showing far too much white and looking horribly vulnerable for a moment. Yuri straightened, a hand wiping away blood from his lip where his teeth had pierced the flesh. He turned on Yurio and grabbed him roughly, dragging him towards the bedroom door. As they passed Makkachin they realised that he was growling, a low and forbidding sound that set Yuri's hackles rising. Yuri pushed Yurio into his and Victor's bedroom and shut the door, leaning against it so he couldn't get out. “Shut up, Yurio.” He muttered, breathing harder than he should have been. “You'll be safe in there.” He took a few deep, shaking breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. Makkachin crept cautiously to his side and sniffed at his hand, his fingers twitched as Yurio started to hammer on the door, shouting to be let out. Despite all of his protestations, Yurio was still just sixteen. He refused to allow him to end up on the receiving end of this woman's insanity. Mariya came around the corner to see Yuri leaning heavily against the door, brown eyes wide with terror as she advanced on him.

 

“You. This is all your fault! You've ruined me! You've turned everyone against me, even my own son!” Tears streamed down her face as she screamed, pointing accusingly at Yuri. She had been forced to come to a halt as Makkachin had inserted himself between them, he was growling again and she seemed too nervous to come any closer. Despite the protection Makkachin offered Yuri felt his throat closing over, his chest burned for air as panic clenched around his body like a vice. He was pale, trembling against the door as Mariya screamed at him and tore at her own hair in her despair. Yuri was terrified. He had never seen anyone lose it like she was. “You're nothing! Nothing! How could Vitya be so taken in by your pathetic little lies? If it's money you want I will give you it, I have plenty. Take the money and go back to your stupid little hot springs! Leave and never bother him again!”

 

“M-Money?” Yuri frowned in confusion, he had no idea what she was talking about. He watched her collapse to the floor dramatically, still sobbing loudly.

 

“Please, just leave us alone!” She moaned, rocking back and forth a little. Yuri was about to speak when someone entered the apartment through the still open door, he was a man Yuri had seen on occasion in the building.

 

“Ma'am? Is...is everything alright?” He asked, eyes moving from the woman on the floor to Yuri pressed against the door to Makkachin standing protectively before him. “My wife has called the police...I just wanted to make sure you were unhurt.”

 

Mariya stood up and threw herself into the man's arms, forcing a surprised grunt from his lips. “Oh thank you sir! Thank you! I was so afraid.”

 

The man's frown deepened suspiciously, “Ma'am, can you tell me what's happening? Where is Victor?”

 

Yuri was at a total loss as to what was happening as his anxiety clutched him in it's icy claws, bands of cruel metal winding themselves too tightly around his lungs as a deep pit of stone formed in his stomach. He couldn't breathe, his knees felt weak. His vision was going a little blurry around the edges. He clutched at his chest, breathing in sharp little pants.

 

“V-Vitya isn't here...h-he's o-out...I d-don't know where...I was out too b-but when I came home I found this one here with another man. He's in the bedroom. Oh my poor Vitya is going to be so heartbroken!” She sobbed into the man's jacket as he turned his eyes to Yuri, his gaze turning accusing. “H-he called me names. He told me he would kick me out and take all of Vitya's money after they got married!”

 

“The police are on their way, Ma'am. I'm sure they will be able to sort this out once and for all.”

 

“He made that evil dog bite me!” She added, lifting her injured arm for the man to see. “He said he was going to hurt me if I told Vitya about his affair. I was so scared.”

 

If Yuri had been in the right state of mind he would have been impressed by her acting, maybe even doubted himself if he understood half of what was being said. As it was, he could hardly breathe. His knees gave way and he slumped to the floor, the man seemed to see that as a sign of defeat. An admission of guilt. Yurio was still banging furiously on the door and after Yuri dropped to his knees he managed to push it open enough to slide his small frame through the gap. His eyes alighted on Yuri, on his hands and knees, wheezing and sputtering as panic overtook him. Yurio fell to his knees beside him, eyes wide with fear as he started to ask Yuri what he needed to do to help.

 

“Hey! You, young man!”

 

Yurio looked up, eyes meeting the man's. “What?!”

 

The man looked at Yurio in shock for a moment, “How old are you?” He asked slowly, a frown creasing his face as he looked back down at Yuri who was still gasping.

 

“Huh?! What the hell does that matter, old man?” Yurio snapped, blond hair falling in front of his eyes.

 

The man seemed unable to answer as he stared at Yurio with wide eyes, he looked so young and afraid as he tried to get Yuri to breathe again. “C'mon, pig...I don't know what to do...” Yurio ignored Mariya and the man, only focussing on trying to help Yuri. “What do you need?”

 

Yuri managed to force words through rapidly numbing lips, “...q-quiet...” He muttered, head hanging low as Yurio nodded sharply and helped him rise to his feet. Yuri stumbled but Yurio was strong for his size and managed to hold him upright.

 

“Hey! Where are you going? You need to stay here, the police are on their way.” The stranger demanded and was shocked when Yurio threw a glare over his shoulder and showed him his middle finger. They went into the bedroom and Yurio let Makkachin through before slamming the door closed behind them. Mariya's cries were muffled as Yurio helped ease Yuri down onto the bed.

 

Yuri took a deep, shuddery breath and slowly the darkness around the edges of his vision began to recede. He started to regulate his breathing, eyes closed as Yurio sat in silence at his side. He wished Victor would return home and had to force his mind away from that, lest it make him panic again. Finally, after some time had passed, Yuri managed to calm himself enough to lift his head. Outside the door all was quiet. He blinked and looked to his side, Yurio had shifted so that his back was against the headboard and he was clicking through his phone with a characteristic glare. It was such a normal sight that it did wonders to help ground Yuri. “I think I'm ok now.” He said, his voice hoarse.

 

Yurio glanced up at him, looked him over suspiciously before shrugging. “So, what now? I think the police'll be here soon. Maybe we can get them to kick that mad woman out of the apartment?” Yurio's green eyes glowed with pleasure at the thought. “Can she be arrested? She did hit you.”

 

“I...I'm not sure I'd even want that. What if it got into the papers?” Yuri rose on shaking legs and warily moved to the door, he pushed down on the handle and opened it. Behind him Makkachin's ears went up and he lifted his head.

 

“Huh, I guess you're right.” Yurio followed Yuri out into the hall and they looked around. They could hear soft voices and so they headed towards them. Makkachin followed close at Yuri's heels, obviously not trusting him not to get into trouble. Yuri was grateful for the dog's presence.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I am so...so...sorry!  >.< I am a bad person who deserves to be hated for being so late in updating! I'm sorry! I hope that with this chapter you can forgive me! I got caught up in FFXV and it was bad but I want to finish this story, so please, bare with me. I'm autistic so I get special interests and they tend to go in circles, sometimes I revisit old ones or gain new ones but it's so inconsistent it drives me nuts sometimes. It makes finishing fanfic really hard for me as I keep flitting around, I'm sorry for this. 
> 
> Also, please note that I have flu (again, I get everything my daughter ends up with!) so my writing may not be up to par, I hope it's ok despite that. Please enjoy, my friends.

Yuri and Yurio entered the living/kitchen area to find Mariya sat at the small table with her head in her hands. Her hair fell about her head every which way and a fresh bandage covered her arm where Makka had bitten her. Beside her was the man who had come to investigate the noise and two police officers. Yuri swallowed a burgeoning lump in his throat as his eyes picked out the badge sewn on the arms of their padded jackets, he stepped closer, Yurio at his heels. Mariya looked up, blinking sluggishly, her eyes puffy and rimmed by smudged make up. “There he is! The one who is threatening my son!” She lifted a shaking hand and pointed accusingly at Yuri.

 

“He isn't threatening anyone.” Yurio responded, talking to the police officers for Yuri. “He is Yuri Katsuki, the Japanese figure skating silver medallist; he's Victor's fiancé. He called me over because he was worried about Victor who never came home, then she came home and attacked him! See!” He grabbed Yuri whose eyes widened as he was dragged into the centre of a conversation he barely understood, Yurio grabbed his face roughly and showed them the mark left behind from the woman's fist. The police men frowned, glancing from Yuri to Yurio then to Mariya.

 

“I know him, my daughter is a huge fan.” One of them said, he was a broad man with an even broader smile.

 

“Now is not the time for autograph's, Boris.” The other said, frowning darkly. “So, what exactly happened here? Give me all the details from the very beginning young man.”

 

Yurio launched into his explanation, speaking so fast Yuri couldn't hope to keep up. Instead he let his eyes wonder, moving around the apartment aimlessly as exhaustion filled his limbs. He wanted Victor now more than ever, his comforting embrace was always a balm on his frayed nerves. He moved away from Yurio in a daze and sat on the sofa, staring at the dark TV screen, watching the blurry reflections move around behind him. Finally the officer cleared his throat, “Your stories do not seem to match up. What has Mr. Katsuki to say about this?”

 

“Oh...he's not well...” Yurio began but the officer waved him off as he approached Yuri.

 

“Mr. Katsuki?” The man said, crouching down in front of Yuri.

 

“Y-Yes?”

 

“My name is Dmitry and I am going to ask you some questions about what happened here tonight.”

 

Yuri glanced over at Yurio who could only shrug helplessly. He sighed and met the officers eyes. “Of course.” He began hesitantly, speaking slowly so he was understood, the man's English was good enough but he didn't want to make a mistake. He told them about Yurio coming over because he was worried about Victor, he told him about Mariya's arrival and when she had punched him as he had tried to protect Yurio. Throughout his explanation his hands twisted in his lap. Finally the officer nodded sternly and rose.

 

“I am inclined to believe that this has been a terrible misunderstanding-”

 

Before the officer could continue the door burst open, Yuri was on his feet in a second. He spun around to face the door, biting his lower lip as his eyes sought and found Victor. There was someone stood behind but in that second all he could see was the man he loved. He gasped and dived around the sofa just as Victor ran to meet him in the centre of the living room. Victor swept Yuri up into his arms, burying his nose in Yuri's neck and breathing deeply. His arms gripped him tightly but Yuri didn't mind at all. Victor smelt like fresh air and slightly of hospitals but Yuri could only focus on not giving into the tears that threatened. “Yuri.” Victor sighed, his cheek damp and cool as it pressed against Yuri's. Slowly they peeled themselves away from each other, Victor's hands rising to cup Yuri's face as he inspected him closely. “Yuri! What happened?” He gasped, thumb moving to his swollen bottom lip and pressing gently against it. Yuri didn't mean to but his eyes flicked in Mariya's direction. The silence in the room became stifling as Victor's head snapped up to look at his mother.

 

“Vitya! I'm so glad your home! It's been so horrible without you-”

 

“What...what did you do?” Victor asked breathlessly, eyes wide and shimmering with a wide range of complicated emotions. Yuri, still trapped by Victor's hands on his face, almost didn't want to look into them.

 

“Nothing! What on earth makes you think that I would-”

 

“You hit him.” Victor looked away from her again, back to Yuri who was watching him warily. “Oh Yuri, I am so, so sorry...”

 

“V-Victor, it's fine. I've had worse falling on the ice, you don't need to worry.”

 

Victor ran his thumb gently over the small wound again, pain flitting across his face. “I...I would give everything to take this back...to be here to stop it.”

 

Yuri took hold of Victor's wrists, gently pulling his arms down so they could hold hands. “None of it was your fault, Victor.” He insisted, eyes firm and grip unyielding as some of the guilt left Victor's eyes.

 

“Sir?”

 

Victor blinked, turning to the policemen as if only just noticing them, “Y-yes?”

 

“Are you Victor Nikiforov?”

 

“Yes, I am...I live here. I am...so sorry for causing so much trouble.”

 

“Don't worry about it, it seems that this woman...uh...your mother, assaulted this young man. Is he really your fiance?”

 

“Yes. We've been living together for a few months now.”

 

“Very well then sir. If you would like, we could take her into custody-”

 

“No. It's fine. Thank you officers, you've been most helpful.” Victor forced his stage-smile, reluctantly releasing Yuri to move towards the door.

 

“It's not a problem, sir.” The officer said, adjusting his hat as he and his partner walked to the door. “Just...in future try to keep things more quiet.”

 

“Of course, of course. Good bye.” Victor smiled until they had left before it slid from his face. He took a breath, noting that the other stranger, one of his neighbours, had also vacated the apartment. It was only himself, Yuri, Yurio, Yakov and his mother. Victor closed his eyes and shut the door, pressing his forehead against it. “Mama?”

 

“Yes Vitya?”

 

“I want you to leave now.” He whispered, “I want you to leave and to never speak to me again.”

 

“B-But Vitya-”

 

“No. No more, Mama.” Victor's voice was low and soft, as if he was too tired to raise it any further. “You hurt Yuri...that is...unforgivable.”

 

“But I-”

 

“Please, stop talking. All you do is talk...your words are poison and I am ashamed it has taken me this long to work that out! I don't need nor want you in my life anymore; leave.”

 

“Vitya, this is silly. What are you saying? I am here for you, you're my son...how could you be so cruel?”

 

“I am not the one being cruel.” Victor blinked away tears and finally turned around, his back to the door. “Get out. I will send your things after you...I will pay for your train ticket...just...get out. Leave me alone. I can't live like this anymore, Mama! I'm so...so tired...of everything. I'm done.” he pushed himself away from the door and walked back to Yuri, taking his hand and leading him into the bedroom, Makkachin followed, tail wagging happily. Yurio smirked, pushing his hands into his pockets as he watched Mariya stare after her son.

 

“Ms. Nikiforov, please do as Vitya says.” Yakov said gruffly, hammering the final nail into the proverbial coffin. Tears filled Mariya's eyes, spilling down her pink cheeks and splashing onto her rumpled jumper. “Now, before I call those nice police officers back. Imagine the stir it would cause in the papers; Victor Nikiforov's own mother escorted out of his house by police. The public would eat it up.” He added with false casualness. He watched her flinch and smiled, taking her arm in a firm grip and leading her, stunned, to the door. He opened it and arched a large, grey eyebrow. “Vitya has no need of you anymore, he has found a family worth so much more than you ever will be. Good bye.” He pushed her out and slammed the door, locking it with a satisfying click. Then he chuckled, “Always wanted to do that.” He grumbled, turning to Yurio who was grinning broadly. “Now, you get to bed. You have a long training session tomorrow, Yuratchka, I need you in top shape. Go!” He growled and Yurio smothered his smile, darting towards the spare bedroom. Once that was done he strode to Victor's bedroom, gently pushing open the door and peering inside. It was dark but he could make out two forms curled up under the covers. He smiled fondly and shook his head, hearing Makkachin huff. Yakov pressed a finger to his lips and the dog fell quiet from his bed on the floor. If Victor saw the soft, fatherly look on Yakov's face as he quietly closed the door behind him, he likely wouldn't have believed his own eyes.

 

XXX

 

Yakov heard the sudden bout of laughter and growled to himself, irritation flaring up as he stomped angrily out of the locker rooms and towards the main rink. He found them on the ice, hand in hand, gliding around the ice together like school children. Yurio was leaning against the barrier, yawning and chewing gum as he played on his phone while Mila and Georgi gossiped in the corner. Victor and Yuri had the ice to themselves, Victor lifting Yuri up and performing pieces of their pari skate routine that had been such a hit at last years exhibition. Yakov growled, Yurio glanced up at him from behind his curtain of blond hair.

 

“I know, gross, isn't it?” He grumbled, looking back at his phone as he tapped away on it. “Otabek thinks-”

 

“If I hear one more word about the Kazakh I will throw you out of this rink, Yuratchka!” Yakov spat, hands curling into fists. “Go do something useful.”

 

“Can't, they're melting the ice with all their lovey-dovey shit.” Yurio shrugged.

 

“Oh, I think it's sweet. They're so romantic.” Georgi sighed, earning a look from Mila as he leaned against the barrier and stared dreamily at the two love birds. “Isn't the wedding soon?”

 

“Yeah, they won't let us fucking forget it.” Yurio grouched.

 

“We're invited though, I have the perfect dress and I think Sara said she was going too. It should be fun, knowing Victor he's probably got something exciting lined up.”

 

“Giacometti's his best man, I doubt he's going to plan anything that's not X-rated.” Yurio muttered back, hiding a smirk as Otabek text him something. “It'll be totally gross and I'll have to puke.”

 

“Aww, still so innocent!” Mila laughed, shoving Yurio's shoulder lightly.

 

“Back off, Hag.”

 

“You two, stop it!” Yakov snapped, causing the bickering to fall silent. “Vitya! Start practicing something useful or I will make sure you never get back on the ice!”

 

Victor smirked at him, eyes sparkling happily as he glided by, turning to lazily skate backwards. “Oh Yakov, you're no fun in the mornings!” He sang, taking Yuri's hands and dragging him along for the ride.

 

“Victor, I really think we should start practising...”

 

“Yuuuriiii, you're no fun either.” Victor whined, finally coming to a halt. “Oh fine, let's do this.” He sighed and watched Yuri move to the edge of the rink.

 

Yakov watched them all; his students, his make-shift family and smiled to himself. Ever since Victor had stopped all contact with his mother he had become a happier person, Yuri had managed to convince him to find a well recommended therapist and he was now going to regular sessions. He was healthier, happier and far more at ease within himself. Yakov could not be more pleased, a great well of love and affection for the boy rising up in his chest whenever he watched him. He was so proud of the man he had become, even without the gold medals. And now, very soon, Victor would be marrying the love of his life and Yakov was secretly hoping for some adopted children, he wouldn't mind becoming a pseudo grandparent. He and Lilia had not had children due to their separate, yet demanding, careers and he did not regret this choice but there was still a yearning in his heart for something more...so, perhaps he could try to suggest the idea to the pair of them some day. He smiled and watched Victor take to the centre of the ice, moving into a graceful pose. He watched, pride swelling as Victor performed, every movement beautiful, every sweep of his arms perfect. Yakov fixed a scowl onto his face when Mila looked his way, making sure to fold his arms across his chest. He didn't want his students thinking he was growing soft in his old age, after all.

 

 

 


End file.
